


anywhere and always

by erenyaeger



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Horror, M/M, Mystery, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-04-26 03:43:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14393583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erenyaeger/pseuds/erenyaeger
Summary: In the middle of the woods outside Moscow, in the dead of night, there is a circle of mushrooms.You might miss it all together if you hiked on by during the day. You might miss if all together if you weren’t led directly to it, and you would be lucky if you did.Otabek Altin was not that lucky. Otabek Altin was looking for Yuri Plisetsky, the love of his life, who had been missing for days now, and was led directly to the circle in his search.One moment, in this circle of mushrooms, Otabek laid still there.A moment later he was missing, too.





	1. Almaty

**Author's Note:**

> _I'm trying my hand at multi-chaptered works again. I think this will need length to do it any justice._
> 
>  
> 
> _This work is otayuri, it's canon compliant in some ways (the events that took place in season one apply here), but it extends and builds on what could happen after._
> 
>  
> 
> _If you like otayuri and mysteries that aren't always what they seem on the surface, then this may be the story for you._

Yuri Plisetsky was missing and everyone was talking about it but no one was looking for him- no one, except for Otabek Altin. 

 

It enraged him that every gossip magazine he saw was covered in headlines about the missing blonde— 

 

_ Victor had thought that maybe telling the press could make it more likely that someone would report if they’d seen Yuri _ —

 

and yet there was never any mention about what was being done to find Yuri. Otabek had the sinking feeling that he truly was a one-man search party at this point. 

 

He had to admit, the story was rather strange- sensational, eye catching. Yuri had just won his third consecutive Grand Prix, and he was training hard for his fourth to keep on the heels of Victor’s five medal record. He was picking up sponsors left and right at this point, and he even seemed to be the favorite for the next olympic win if he kept going at this rate. The world seemed like it was in Yuri’s hands.

 

And so Otabek couldn’t figure out why Yuri would want to vanish from it. 

 

It didn’t help that somewhere, in the pit of his stomach, he was a little worried that he was somehow responsible for this. Maybe if he’d trusted his gut when he’d thought it odd that Yuri didn’t call that last night Yuri would still be with him. Maybe if he’d just tried harder to reach Yuri, Yuri wouldn’t have vanished. 

 

But he was gone now, and his absence was weighing heavily on Otabek’s heart as he looked for Yuri.  

 

* * *

 

A week before the blonde’s disappearance, Otabek had visited Yuri in Moscow. 

 

His grandfather had taken a nasty fall in his factory job, and Yuri had made the decision to pay for an apartment in an assisted living complex with some of the money he’d earned from sponsorships. It was a difficult time, but money wasn’t an issue- they weren’t made of it, but Nikolai had earned his pension from over the years and Yuri had good budgeting and saving habits from growing up without much. 

 

It was difficult because Yuri knew Nikolai’s time left on earth was limited, and although he’d already experienced so much loss in his short life this seemed like more than he could take.

 

He’d called Otabek in tears after he finished arranging everything and told him he needed to see him. 

 

The brunette agreed to come over and help Yuri move Nikolai’s remaining belongings from his previous apartment into storage. The talked about maybe seeing the city in between working on it, visiting the rink Yuri used to skate on when he was young, making dinner together even. 

 

That was about what they did- the only thing that Otabek hadn’t counted on was that last night they spent together. 

 

There was one bed in the apartment, and that in itself wasn’t all too unusual. Yuri and Otabek had shared a bed on previous visits (even though Otabek had to fight to keep his mind out of the gutter when he did). They’d slept together plenty of times. 

 

They’d even kissed. 

 

Usually it was tender, fleeting, a peck on the cheek or mouth before curling together for sleep. Otabek cherished those moments although they never spoke of them, and he always looked forward to them when they stayed together. 

 

That being said, he didn’t think too much of it when Yuri presses their lips together at first. He kissed back, gently, taking in the moment, and he only noticed something was different when Yuri suddenly fisted his hands into Otabek’s sleep shirt and ran his tongue over the brunette’s bottom lip. 

 

Otabek couldn’t help it at that point. 

 

He got greedy. They kissed again, and again, and again, and soon one hand was in Yuri’s long blonde hair and the other hand was on his hips and  _ oh fuck  _ Yuri’s hands were on the fly of his pants and then they were—

 

_ “Don’t leave me.”  _ Yuri breathed heavily into his ear, stroking him as though trying to coax him into agreeing. “ _ Please. Please, I can’t do this alone—.” _

 

_ “I will follow you anywhere. Always.”  _ Otabek moaned into Yuri’s hair, and Yuri responded by shimmying out of his shorts and spreading his legs, guiding the brunette’s cock towards his  _ ohmygodwasthisreallyhappening _ —

 

ohfuck —

  
  


Yuri cried a little, at first. Otabek was sure he’d hurt him, and he peppered Yuri’s face with kisses while asking if he was okay, if he needed him to stop, and Yuri all but yanked the brunette closer to him. 

 

_ “I said  _ **_don’t fucking leave me_ ** _!” _ The blonde hissed dangerously, his hips twitching with Otabek inside of him. “ _ Just— just stay. Here.” _

 

Otabek did. Yuri covered his face in kisses, stroked his hair, and shuddered as he adjusted to the feeling of holding the brunette inside of him. 

 

_ “I would do anything for you,”  _ Yuri whispered, finally rolling his hips a little to encourage Otabek to move,  _ “just stay with me.” _

 

Otabek rocked his hips and Yuri cries out, this time less pained and more  _ sensual _ , and it somehow made Otabek even harder. 

 

_ “Always.”  _ Otabek reassured Yuri again, fucking him slowly and coaxing a chorus of beautiful moans from the blonde’s lips.  _ “I’ll follow you anywhere you go. I’ll spend forever with you.” _

 

_ “Promise. Promise me.” _ Yuri whined, wrapping his legs tightly around the brunette’s hips and licking behind his earlobe. 

 

_ “I promise I’ll follow you wherever you go, I promise I’ll spend forever with you, Yuri.”  _ Otabek moaned, and Yuri kissed his jaw and sucked a hickey onto it. 

 

_ “I am never letting you go.”  _ Yuri whispered, tightening around the brunette, and  _ ohfuck  _ Otabek couldn’t hold out anymore—

 

They were a mess of sweat, saliva and cum on the sheets when all was said and done. 

 

They were also only three hours away from needing to be at the airport for Otabek’s flight back to Almaty. 

 

They ended up showering together (and going another round), and by that point they decided to skip sleeping all together and just load Otabek’s suitcase into the car to make sure that they made his flight on time. They walked into the terminal together, hand in hand, and Yuri kissed Otabek full on the mouth before Otabek boarded his flight. 

 

“You made a promise for me.” Yuri reminded him, and Otabek kissed him again and pulled him into a hug.

 

“I’m going to be back here so soon, but I’m not leaving you. Whenever I go or you go I just look for ways to get back to you.”

 

Yuri hugged back, burying his face in Otabek’s chest. 

 

“There are some apartments in St. Petersburg. You’d like them. They’re near clubs and stuff so you could do your music.” He mumbled against the brunette’s jacket, and Otabek kissed the blonde’s forehead and  _ is Yuri really asking what he thinks he’s asking— _

 

“I would love that.” He replied, and Yuri pecked his lips. 

 

A voice came over the loudspeaker and reminded Otabek that he really needed to board the flight, and they kissed again. 

 

“Call me when you get in. We can talk more.” Yuri coaxed gently.

 

“I will.” Otabek replied, and after one more kiss he beamed all the way home. 

 

* * *

 

The strangest part about this whole situation was that Yuri was still accounted for when Otabek made it back to Almaty. 

 

They did talk on the phone for quite a long time once Otabek settled in. Yuri had evidently been busy- he had already compiled a list of one bedroom apartments in a section of St. Petersburg he thought Beka would like. 

 

He seemed like he was in a good mood- excited, electric, maybe a little jittery, but generally so, so, happy. Otabek wondered if maybe past few years of friendship had always been leading up to this, and he couldn’t be luckier to have reached this point with Yuri. 

 

They fell asleep talking. And then when Otabek woke Yuri to let the blonde know he was going to practice, they agreed to talk again later. 

 

And they did. 

 

Things seemed so, so normal. Yuri was still posting cat pictures and the occasional skating video on his Instagram. He was texting Otabek, too. He would text before he called, maybe to ask the brunette to be available. 

 

But then, one day, Yuri never called. 

 

It bothered Otabek. Sure, before they had started- 

 

- _ could he call what they were doing “dating”? _ \- 

 

well, before they started doing what they were doing now, they didn’t talk on the phone  _ everyday _ (although, admittedly, they almost never went a day without messaging). But it seemed odd to Otabek that  _ ever since  _ they had started this, Yuri had been telling him he’d call and then following through. 

 

Until he didn’t. 

 

But Otabek wondered if maybe he wasn’t overreacting at first. Maybe his feelings were a little hurt, and he was just making this out to be more than it was. Surely Yuri was just tired from practice and had fallen asleep, or maybe his grandfather had called. Surely it didn’t mean anything. He would call tomorrow. 

 

Otabek texted him that he missed him and he’d talk to him tomorrow and didn’t think anything else of it. 

 

But then Yuri didn’t call the next day again. Or text. This time, though, Victor called. 

 

Otabek didn’t know that was who it was at first. The man was talking a mile a minute and didn’t identify himself, and he ended up having to re-explain everything once Otabek finally understood who was calling. 

 

And as Victor went slower this time, explained that they hadn’t seen Yuri for the past two days at the rink and were wondering if maybe he was visiting Otabek, Otabek got a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

 

“...He’s not here.” Otabek started to respond slowly, following the thought with a hopeful “Did you try asking his grandfather? I know he’s been worried about him lately.”

 

“That’s what we thought, too. We tried him first, but he says he hasn’t seen Yuri since last week when he came back to St. Petersburg with Lilia.”

 

_ Fuck.  _

 

“... He hasn’t texted or called for the past two days.” Otabek started. “I thought maybe he was just busy with practice, but—”

 

“That’s unusual.” Victor noticed. “He loves you more than he loves anyone.”

 

The declaration made Otabek’s heart swell, but it also made him even more concerned about the blonde’s absence. 

 

“Y-yeah?” Was all he could manage to get out. 

 

“Yeah. I mean sometimes he starts brooding and he doesn’t want to talk to anyone when he’s in a mood like that- to be fair, I guess most of us here have let him down at some point- but he thinks the sun and stars of you. He’s always texting you, even when he’s angry at the rest of the world. So... we kind of thought he just ran off to see you. I mean, that’s why we gave it three days.”

 

“...It’s only been two.” Otabek mumbled, suddenly a little suspicious. Had something happened in St. Petersburg that they weren’t sharing?

 

“Well,” Victor started with a sigh, “he was having a weird day at practice, on the first day we’re counting. He was really jumpy, and he seemed kind of out of it. Yakov told him he should go back to Lilia’s to try and get some sleep in his own bed instead of packing up Nikolai’s apartment more, and then he could just do some ballet for the day after. Yuri seemed to think it was a good idea, but Lilia said he still seemed a bit off after a nap and told him to just rest some more. She said he was going on about seeing things out of the corner of his eye and stuff, and it kind of worried her because of his mother—”

 

“His mother? But Yuri said she left when he was really young. She was an idol or something at one point, right?” Otabek questioned, raising a brow. 

 

“She did, and she was. But she had some sort of nervous break down after Yuri was born and lost everything. I mean, it was no secret that she had mood swings, but they say she started seeing things and then everything got a lot worse. And then she ran off.”

 

That declaration left Otabek terrified. 

 

“So you’re saying there’s a history of— what, mental illness maybe and missing person’s reports in his family, and no one thought to try and check in with Yuri for three days?!” Otabek’s voice was rising,  and he could feel himself shaking. 

 

Victor exhaled heavily, swallowed thickly, and tried again. 

 

“He almost always goes to you. Or his grandfather. He’s never... done this, before.” 

 

“I thought he was with you and if I knew that he wasn’t I would have started looking on day one am I the  _ only one  _ who actually cares if Yuri is missing or okay or- or—”

 

Otabek’s voice was shaking now, too, and he could tell Victor was trying to steady his. 

 

“Believe me, we’ve all let Yuri down over here. But that doesn’t mean we don’t care.”

 

“... So what do we do now?” Otabek tried, and Victor was quiet for a moment. 

 

“I guess we should file a missing person’s report.”

 

“And then?”

 

“And then the police look for him?”

 

Otabek could see why everyone else had let Yuri down. 

 

“Call the police. I’m going to start looking.” Otabek declared low and quiet, and then hung up the phone despite Victor’s  _ Otabek, wait— _

 

But there was no time to wait. Yuri had been gone for  _ days  _ and he wasn’t getting any less gone, especially not if Otabek stayed still. 

 

He moved to pack for his one-man search party. 

 

* * *

 

Yuri’s phone chimes. 

 

**Today, 3:33 p.m.**

**Otabek:** _ I miss you.  _

**Otabek:** _ I’m sorry I didn’t ask if you were okay. I should have called.  _

**Otabek:** _ Do you want to tell me where you are? I’ll come be with you. You don’t even need to tell the others, I’m the one who promised to be there. I will, always, I just need you to tell me where. _

 

**Today, 4:45 p.m.**

**Otabek:** _ I’m not giving up on you and I’m not leaving you. I’m going to come look for you now. _

**Otabek:** _I said I’ll follow you anywhere you go and I mean it- I’m going to find where that is, I'll prove it, I promise._

 

 


	2. Moscow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Yuri is an artist and Otabek is not; the Kazakh's crudely drawn map for his one-man search party makes Yuri's drawings of cats and candy-wrappers look like high art. Maybe being good with a pen just runs in Yuri's family, though- Yuri's mother had a way with words- had. Before **they** started watching._
> 
> _But still, Otabek wonders if those words hold any clues to where Yuri might be right now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __  
>  **Thank you for your comments and kudos- it makes me happy to see that there are people who are interested in seeing where this goes! It's also a nice bit of motivation to know that there are some folks out there reading this. Enjoy~**   
> 

There’s a crudely drawn map in Otabek’s pocket of all of the places he plans to look for Yuri.

 

Otabek isn’t known for being an artist. That’s more of Yuri’s thing- the blonde tends to scribble cute pictures of cats and Japanese snacks on the back of paper scraps when he’s waiting to travel. Otabek lives for the times that Yuri lets him have the things that he’s drawn on the back of. There’s something almost intimate about retracing the lines that Yuri made with his fingertips, and Otabek wonders if that intimacy will extend to tracing Yuri’s steps.

 

Of course, that relies on Otabek knowing where Yuri has stepped to begin with. Which he doesn’t. Which is why he’s made a very terribly drawn map to lead his one man search party.

 

He’s starting in Moscow.

 

In the back of his mind, he’s still hoping that he’s overreacting. Maybe Yuri _did_ just go and visit his grandfather, or maybe he decided to try and finish packing up the last of Nikolai’s old apartment after all. If he’s packing, it could explain why Nikolai hasn’t seen him.

 

Otabek _hopes_ against hope that that’s all this is.

 

He buys the cheapest flight that he can manage and plans to just rent a car to get to St. Petersburg after. With any luck, he won’t need the car after all- he keeps trying to imagine Yuri taping boxes shut, preparing them for storage, and maybe all that’s happened here is he’s dropped his phone in one of them yes, _yes that must be why he’s not calling_ —

 

The flight seems to go by surprisingly fast. Otabek can’t tell if his stomach is doing flips because he’s excited to find Yuri or because he’s afraid to not find him.

 

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t find Yuri in the apartment.

 

He manages to find the spare key Yuri hid, which is how he knows Yuri is not in the apartment. It doesn’t look like he’s been here at all since they left— the only boxes packed and labeled are the ones they did together, and although there’s not much left to do no further progress has been made since they left.

 

It’s terribly, painfully disheartening.

 

The brunette swallows thickly, trying to keep himself from crying (because really, what good would that do), and wonders if maybe he’s missed something. Maybe Yuri _was_ here for something. Or if he wasn’t, maybe there will be _something_ in Nikolai’s possessions that might tell him a little more about what the blonde might do at a time like this, something to lead him in the right direction.

 

He vaguely remembers Yuri saying that he didn’t feel like packing up the photo albums right then because he didn’t feel like looking at old photos of his mom- but now Otabek wonders if maybe (if Yuri is following in his mom’s footsteps) the photos might give him the directions that he’s looking for.

 

He makes his way over to the hip-high cabinet that he remembers Yuri telling him to let be the last time that they were there. When he kneels and opens it the photo albums don’t surprise him, but he is caught off guard by the box next to them. He wonders if maybe these are loose photos, and decides that they might be just as important as the ones that are in the albums. He pulls the box out onto the floor next to him and starts trying to open it. It seems as though this box has been closed for years judging by how stuck the lid feels, but luckily Otabek manages to finally pry it open with some patience.

 

Inside there are a few photos, yes, but even more interestingly there are books. Diaries maybe, judging by the locking mechanisms on the edges. Are they Yuri’s? Nikolai’s? Do they hold a clue to where the pretty blonde might be right now?

 

The possibility compels Otabek to try and open them.

 

He tries just pulling at the cheap-looking locks at first, but there’s no give. Fair enough. He rifles through the boxes, looking for a key, but he can’t quite seem to find one. It makes sense, really, because who would leave a key to a diary where anyone could find it?

 

Taking a deep breath now, Otabek looks around the room for something that could help. If this was Yuri’s usual living space there may have been bobby-pins strewn about a dresser, but unfortunately that’s not the case here. Ever since Yuri started skating competitively most of his possessions have moved with him between the rooms he’s boarded in near his rink, most recently Lilia’s house.

 

And, if things hadn’t been interrupted like this, they would have moved to the apartment that Yuri and Otabek were going to share together next.

 

The brunette sighs heavily, stands up, and starts walking the perimeter of the room.

 

He idly opens and closes some drawers, looking for anything that could help pry open the diaries, and then realizes the hammer he saw in one of them may be of use to him. He returns to the drawer to pick it up, and then looks for something that seems like it could be small enough to fit inside the locks to the journals. After digging through the drawer, he finds a tiny, stray nail that seems like it may fit the bill.

 

He returns to his spot on the floor, settling next to the box again, and picks up one of the journals. He positions the small nail in the hole to the lock, angles the hammer, steadies his hand, and—

 

**_WHACK!_ **

 

And then again, for the second journal.

 

**_W H A C K !_ **

****

Both books are now open.

 

Jackpot.

 

Otabek picks one up and starts to leaf though it, looking for the identity of the writer. The pages are yellowed, and the writing is pretty and neat. The dates on the pages tell Otabek that this can’t be Yuri’s journal- it’s from before Yuri was born. The neat, swirling, cursive and little hearts on some letters makes Otabek wonder if maybe this book is Yuri’s mother’s.

 

He starts to read.

 

It seems like he might be right, based on the details in the entries. There’s anecdotes about modeling gigs, records of strange dreams, and a few particularly racy entries detailing how date night went down. The entries are signed with a name that Otabek vaguely remembers Yuri _maybe_ using for his mother. He can’t imagine why Nikolai would have kept these books they weren’t his daughter’s records, and so he decides it’s safe to proceed believing that these are hers.

 

The journal he’s reading ends before Yuri would have even been conceived. He wonders if maybe the next one will be any more helpful, or if it will also be a dud.

 

It’s uneventful for the first half of the entries, very similar to the first (aside from the fact that she seems to be in a more committed relationship than the flings she was having previously), but then it starts to get interesting.

 

_ July 25th, 2000 _

__

_ I told him today. I’m not sure he took the news well, because he said he was happy but he’s not ready to tell anyone about us yet. Well FINE! I’m having this baby with or without his help. It’s special- it’s like a part of us, and what we have. Or HAD, at this rate.  _

__

_ I guess it’s stupid that I still love him like I do when he doesn’t even want to stand by me during all of this. I mean, dad found a way to support mom even though they were kind of young when they had me. That’s how it’s supposed to be, isn’t it? _

__

_ Guys these days just suck I guess.  _

_ July 25th, 8:00 p.m. _

__

_ PREGNANCY CRAVINGS SUCK ALL I WANT IS PICKLES.  _

 

Otabek can’t help but smile a little, because she just seems so... human here. And it seems like she wanted Yuri so much- it kind of surprises him more now that she left him behind in the end.

 

He reads more entries. Most of them are about cravings, some aches and pains, wondering how she’s going to balance modeling with all of this (although here she seems adamant that she’s not willing to give Yuri up). He finds an entry about a nursery.

 

_ December 13th, 2000 _

__

_ The weather has just been AWFUL lately. I’ve spent a lot of time preparing the nursery. It’s not much I know, but I think I’ve found a really nice cradle and I even painted the walls this pretty light green color. I think I want to do like a jungle theme maybe, with wild cats and stuff. But like, cute.  _

__

_ He’s finally coming around I think, which is kind of nice. We talked about some names together today- we both like “Yuri” a lot. Grandpa was named Yuri, and it makes dad happy to think of the name being passed on. I guess we’ll go with “Yulia” if it ends up being a girl because that’s pretty and kind of close to Yuri, but the doctors think it’s going to be a boy. Mom isn’t really sure, though. She says it feels like it could be a toss up with all of her folklore stuff, like it’s partly feminine but only a little masculine.  _

__

_ I think mom just wants a granddaughter. Sorry mom! _

__

Otabek can’t help but laugh here. He wonders if maybe Yuri’s grandmother somehow knew Yuri even before she saw Yuri. Yuri likes what Yuri thinks is beautiful, and if it’s femme then so be it.

 

Otabek thinks that’s beautiful, thinks Yuri is beautiful, and his heart aches while he thinks of Yuri and wonders where he is.

 

He rushes through a bunch of entries, and what catches his eye is when the handwriting changes. It’s not pretty and swooping anymore- it’s sloppy and frantic this time.

 

**_ March 15th, 2001 _ **

**__ **

**_ They’re watching him. I know they are. I tried to tell someone but no one believes me. They’re just waiting for me to leave him alone.  _ **

**__ **

Otabek furrows his brow. Yuri has been born at this point, that must be the “him” she’s talking about. But who’s watching?

 

Is anyone watching? Is this when she started breaking down?

**__ **

**_ March 16th, 2001 _ **

**__ **

**_ I know they’re watching. They must be the ones who have been following me back to the car. If I stay awake they can’t get him.  _ **

**__ **

Otabek is perplexed. He leafs back in the journal, looking for anything about cars, and finally finds the entry.

 

_ January 6th, 2001 _

__

_ I’ve been trying not to think about it but someone is following me. I guess I just thought if I didn’t write about it it would go away because I would forget, but I keep seeing him.  _

__

_ Sometimes when I go to the car to get groceries I see someone in the garage. Sometimes fans look for me, but usually they introduce themselves and ask for an autograph or something.  _

__

_ This guy(?) just watches.  _

__

_ I wouldn’t be worried except for he knows where I live. He’s in my apartment garage.  _

__

_ He’s kinda weird. Tall, skinny... maybe kind of boney? He’s always in the shadows though, so I can’t see him that well.  _

__

_ I think I need to tell someone.  _

__

__

_ January 19th, 2001 _

__

_ Mom and dad got worried about the weird guy in the garage so they’re letting me stay with them for a while. I hate to leave the nursery I put all that time into, but mom moved all of the furniture and decorations and she said we can paint here too if I want. I’m lucky that at least mom and dad are being supportive, even if SOMEONE can’t figure out how to be a father yet. They’re going to be great grandparents for Yuri.  _

__

She was right about that last sentence, at least. Otabek knows that Yuri’s grandmother died when he was young, but the blonde speaks of her fondly whenever he does.

 

There doesn’t look like there’s any more entries about the weird car guy after that, but Otabek wonders if maybe it’s simply that she doesn’t want to acknowledge other sightings like she mentioned earlier.

 

He returns to the later entries.

 

**_ March 18th 2001 _ **

**__ **

**_ So so tired. Can’t sleep. They’re watching through the window, waiting for us to leave him alone so that they can TAKE HIM I get it now they don’t want me, they want my baby, but they can’t have him.  _ **

**__ **

**_ I need some more coffee.  _ **

**__ **

Otabek wonders who “they” could be. Is it really just the same one person from the garage? Is it more than one person?

 

Were “they” ever really even there?

 

He reads on.

**__ **

**_ March 19, 2001 _ **

 

**_ I don’t think I can stay awake much longer I need to see if mom will stay up with Yuri while I sleep. Just for a little while. Then I’ll go back to watching.  _ **

**__ **

Otabek wonders if Yuri’s grandmother sees them, too. If she sees them, maybe it can confirm for sure if they are there, and how many of them there are. Or if they’re the same one stranger from the garage.

 

Earlier Yuri’s mother says she tried to tell someone but they didn’t believe her. Was it her mother, though? Or was it her dead-beat boyfriend? Or was it even anyone of any importance?

 

The next entry doesn’t truly answer this question.

**__ **

**_ March 20, 2001 _ **

 

**_ Slept. Something is wrong. I’m not sure baby in the cradle is my Yuri. He looks wrong. His eyes are wrong. He looks wrong, doll like. He looks wrong, not quite human. He cries and he eats but he doesn’t look like my Yuri. I thought mom stayed with him? She would have seen if someone had taken him, wouldn’t she? _ **

 

 

This is a good point. Yuri’s grandmother _should have_ seen something if it was there watching, even if nothing happened. It doesn’t seem that she saw anything, though. It doesn’t seem like much happened, aside from maybe some fatigue finally hitting Yuri’s mom. Yuri still seems to be there in this entry.

 

He turns the page. The date is the same, but the tone is very, very different.

****

**_ MA R CH 20 200 1 T HE D A Y TH E Y TO O K HI M _ **

 

**_ MO M W ENT T O SL EEP S HE WAS N’T WATCHING THI S ISN’T M Y BAB Y T HE Y TOOK HIM T HE Y TOOK YURI YURI B A B Y I A M SO SOR RY MOM MY LOV E S YOU S O MU CH I’M GOI NG TO LOO K FO R YOU BA BY I’M GO ING TO FIN D Y OU— _ **

****

Otabek isn’t sure what he just read.

 

Yuri’s Grandmom wouldn’t have just let a stranger into their home. Surely she wouldn’t have even let a dubious acquaintance near the baby. Nothing should have happened. The baby was still in the cradle. Yuri’s mom even said there was still a baby in the cradle, Yuri _had_ to still be in the cradle. Was this psychosis, and if so what part of it was psychosis, _was the baby really there and Yuri’s mom just decided it wasn’t hers or did she lose the baby and make up a story about why it was gone? But Yuri grew up with his grandparents so he can’t really be gone here, right, unless they took him from her but everyone knows she left Yuri, that’s why he lived with his grandparents—_

Otabek turns the page for more answers. He's bracing himself, a little afraid of what he might find but ready, ready to try and understand where someone goes when they're having a breakdown like that, ready to try and understand where Yuri might have gone,  ** _Otabek is ready to find Yuri god fucking dammit_**   _he turns the page and-_

 

There is nothing after. The entries stop there.

 

And then the phone rings.


	3. St. Petersburg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _What Otabek finds at the other end of Yuri's phone makes his blood run cold, but what he finds in Yuri's drawings chills him to the bone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hi again- if you've read this far, thank you! It's good to have you on board for another chapter. If you're new, welcome aboard! It's been a while since I've taken on something ongoing like this, but it's also been a while since I've been this inspired. I hope you will all stick around for this adventure, if you will, and we'll all see where it takes us (and hopefully, find where it took Yuri)._
> 
>  
> 
> _If you're into mysteries, suspense, and boys pining for other boys and know someone else who's into mysteries, suspense, and boys pining for other boys, consider sharing this with them. ;) And, as always, kudos and comments are very much appreciated. I think this is the longest chapter we have for this story thus far._

* * *

 

Otabek’s heart is pounding at the sound of the phone buzzing in his pocket and _is this it, will **this** be Yuri will he finally know where he is or at least that he’s okay—_

 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket with trembly hands and reads the illuminated letters.

 

It’s Lilia.

 

He swallows thickly, and he’s not sure whether he wants to cry from disappointment or scream in frustration. It’s not Lilia’s fault, though, and Otabek knows that. And it must be important if she’s trying to reach him.

 

Otabek had programmed the ballerina’s number into his phone after the few times he’d stayed over at her house when he was visiting Yuri. She was actually a very kind person- she looked severe and she could be blunt, but she had always been very welcoming to him during his visits and Yuri clearly seemed at home at her residence.

 

It makes Otabek’s heart pang knowing that Yuri felt that comfortable there and was willing to move again to just be with Otabek.

 

It’s a knife in his stomach that Yuri is still missing and can’t be with him right now.

 

The Kazakh male finally picks up the phone so he doesn’t miss the call, taking a shuddering breath in and trying to collect himself.

 

“Hello?” He greets, and Lilia replies quickly.

 

“I hear you’re out looking for Yuri.”

 

“Yes. I’ve tried calling him, but he won’t pick up. I thought maybe he’d gone back to Moscow, but...”

 

Otabek sighs. It tells Lilia all she needs to know.

 

“I think you should try his room.”

 

“Pardon?” Otabek asks. Has he misunderstood? Has Yuri returned? Was he never missing at all, just hiding at home with Lilia because he was sick of his rink mates?

 

He’s hopeful.

 

“I mean, the way he left it is just... odd. No one could have gotten in the house that night, everything was locked and the alarm was on, and there’s no signs of a struggle... but it... I mean, there’s things he left that I think he would have taken if he’d just ran away. Something doesn’t make sense.”

 

Otabek’s heart dropped into his stomach. That possibility hadn’t occurred to him before.

 

“Do you think someone—”

 

“ _Shh no, no, no, no, no_ , it’s not that. I already said the house was secured. Besides, Yurochka is a smart boy. He would have kicked and screamed and fought and knocked things over. He would have left clues for us if something like that had happened.” Otabek can’t tell if she’s saying that for his comfort or for the both of them, but he chooses to believe that she’s right. What other choice does he have right now to keep his head on right?

 

She continues.

 

“I just mean... well, how soon can you get here?”

 

“I can go rent a car right now, it will probably take an hour to get the car and pay and then I’ll drive for—”

 

“Don’t be silly. You’ll fly.” She cuts him off, and he chuckles a little. He’s exhausted, and he’d really rather fly, but he needs to save his funds for if his search takes him somewhere much further.

 

“I’ll run out of money if I fly everywhere.”

 

“This one’s on me. I just... I want you to look at some things he left. You might know more about them than I do. Besides, you’re the one who’s actually out looking for him anyway.”

 

“That’s very generous.” Otabek notes. “Thank you.”

 

“We want to find him just the same. You’re just better suited for the job than the rest of us. Anyway, I’ll send a— what is it, a picture message— with the details. You should fly out tonight, it won’t take long, and I’ll come get you. Or make Yakov do it. Whichever works better at the time.”

 

Otabek can’t help but laugh a little. Although the skating coach and the ballet star have divorced, in some ways they are still very much an old married couple.

 

“I’ll see you there, then.” Otabek comments, and Lilia nods and then realizes he can’t see her.

 

“Yes. Safe travels.”

 

* * *

 

**Today, 2:37 p.m.**

**Otabek:** _I just wish you would tell me where you are, Yura._

**Otabek:** _But I’ll still come for you if you don’t, all the same. I’ll be there for you._

**Otabek:** _I love you. Let’s see each other soon._

* * *

 

Lilia has Yakov pick him up.

 

Otabek is slightly amused by their antics. It’s not enough to take his mind away from being on Yuri, not anywhere close, but he does find it funny how they’re still begrudgingly running errands and doing favors for each other when there is nothing tethering them together anymore.

 

He can’t help but wonder if maybe it’s just an excuse to see one another, now and again. He hopes he and Yuri never get to that point, but then he remembers grimly that _of course they won’t, if Yuri never comes back._

 

He’d sacrifice anything to stay with Yuri— he’d sacrifice anything to just _be_ with Yuri again at this point.

 

The ache in his heart now makes all of the times that he missed Yuri during the past few years, between visits since Barcelona—

 

_—before he knew that Yuri would ever feel the same way about him that he felt about Yuri—_

 

—seem so very dull.

 

“You don’t talk much, do you? Well, probably for the better. I guess that’s the way to get along with people like Lilia and Yuri, not that I ever did so well with it. Makes for a long drive though.” Yakov breaks the silence after ten minutes of driving, and Otabek tries to smile.

 

“Apologies. My mind is just somewhere else right now.”

 

The older gentleman nods.

 

“I think all of ours are. But some of us never shut up when that happens, like Victor, and some of us seem like we’re a thousand miles away, too.”

 

“Do you think that Yuri is that far? Like do you think he just... left? Russia, I mean?”

 

Yakov hums, mulling the question over in his mind.

 

“I would like to think that it would be difficult for him to do that, but he’s gotten a lot better at sneaking around than Victor, Mila, or Georgi ever did. I suppose the lingering question in my mind is where would he go, if not to you and his grandfather?”

 

Otabek wishes it were that simple. He’d already been both of those places.

 

“He’s perplexing like that, though. He wants to be the best but he hates the limelight; he just wants people to leave him alone more often than not. And I’ve only ever known a few, brilliant people like that in my time, and they’ve always... ended up doing something like this.”

 

Otabek’s throat is tight, and he’s almost afraid to ask his next question.

 

“And what happened to them?” The brunette almost whispers.

 

“A variety of things. One had some sort of nervous break and moved out to the country to start a farm. One overdosed on unlabeled pills in a cheap hotel room and wasn’t found for days. One eloped with his lover and started a family in some no-name fishing town.”

 

Any of these prospects, especially if he is not with Yuri, terrify him.

 

Yakov watches him pale.

 

“I suppose I shouldn’t have given you something to be more afraid of.” The man starts off. “I’m sorry. It’s no excuse, but my students are the closest thing I’ve ever had to a family since Lilia...”

 

He doesn’t finish that thought. He starts off another.

 

“Anyway, I thought since you came into his life you’d put him at peace and maybe he wouldn’t... or at least, maybe you can pull him back from the edge.”

 

“I’m trying.” Otabek responds. “I just need to know where the edge is.”

 

Yakov nods.

 

“Lilia is more like Yuri than I am. Maybe she’ll be able to show you the way.”

 

Otabek nods, and Yakov nods again, and the spend the rest of the drive in stiff silence again.

 

* * *

 

When he gets to Lilia’s home she has left the front lights on, and she is waiting by the door. She thanks Yakov and offers him a cup of coffee, which the man accepts but takes in a go-cup home with him.

 

Otabek can’t help but wonder if this is just another excuse to see each other again, and wonders why they have to manufacture them.

 

But he’s stressed enough about Yuri’s disappearance without worrying about what he and Yuri will be like thirty years from now _(if he finds him before thirty years from now)_ and so he begs his brain to stop thinking about it and move on to more useful things, like finding Yuri.

 

“Would you like to take a look in Yuri’s room?” Lilia asks, and Otabek nods. He’s still dressed fully with his backpack and coat, but he’s too numb to take them off right now.

 

Instead, he just heads up the stairs to where he knows Yuri’s room is and Lilia follows.

 

The room is dark, except for the light next to the bed that Yuri always leaves on when he’s winding down for the night. Otabek turns on his phone flashlight, and Lilia raises a brow.

 

“You can turn on the main lights, if you like.”

 

“I’m wondering if maybe we’ll see something if we keep the room the way he left it.”

 

Lilia nods.

 

“I left his lights like this for that purpose.”

 

The start though the room, Otabek looking at Yuri’s tousled bedsheets. They still smell like Yuri and Otabek aches- he fights to keep from sobbing and collapsing into them, instead biting his lip and checking the nightstand.

 

His blood runs cold.

 

Yuri’s phone has been there the whole time, perfectly set where Yuri sets it when he goes to sleep for the night.

 

He glances at Lilia, his eyes glassy, and Lilia tries to help.

 

“Yuri is smart. He would have taken it with him, if he didn’t want to go wherever he went.”

 

Otabek chooses to believe that, because he will break if he does not.

 

“Is that all? That you noticed, I mean?” He tries with a shaky voice, and Lilia shakes her head.

 

“Check the desk. He’s been... drawing some strange drawings. I thought they were from one of those Japanese cartoons he watches sometimes, but they don’t seem quite right.”

 

Otabek carefully walks towards the desk on the other wall and looks down. There’s Yuri’s sketchbook covered in cat stickers (some of which Otabek bought for the blonde), some loose papers, and a mess of pens and markers scattered around them.

 

He shines his flashlight over the scene, ready to try and decipher what Yuri might have meant by all of it.

 

It’s horrifying, because he can’t help but draw a parallel between the tall, spindly figure that Yuri’s mother saw all of those years ago and the drawing in front of him right now.

 

_Why would Yuri even know about that—_

Otabek _tries_ to be rational, tries very hard, because surely could have read his mother’s journal entry but it’s chilling to think that there’s even a chance that he made this discovery on his own.

 

He looks at a few more loose papers. There’s one of this figure in what looks like a parking lot, a subway station, outside of a window and down a long corridor _(maybe at the rink? Otabek shudders to think about it)._

 

Otabek opens the sketchbook. The first half is so, painfully Yuri that his heart aches all over again. There’s cats, anime characters, candy, some ideas for ice skating outfits—

 

_a few of Otabek in the dimming light of the evening, like when they saw each other over the summer, one of him when they saw each other over Christmas because it features that god-awful hipster sweater that Otabek loves because Yuri got it for him to make him laugh—_

—and then in an instant things start looking wrong.

 

The first drawing of that shadowy figure emerges, on the corner of a page full of candy-colored cat drawings. It’s done in blacks and mauves, and it looks so painfully out of place compared to the rest of the sketches. It starts to appear on the corners of pages more and more, until it finally takes up it’s own.

 

That’s Yuri’s bedroom window it’s looking through.

 

Yuri’s bedroom window is on the second floor.

 

Otabek wonders if Yuri is coming apart the same way his mother did, and he wants nothing more than to pull Yuri close and tell him that it’s okay, that _he’ll_ protect him from that thing that’s looking for him so Yuri doesn’t have to run away because even if it’s _really_ not there Yuri is clearly terrified—

 

Terrified enough to leave everything he knows to try and shake it?

 

There’s words on the next page.

 

**_W H Y  A R E  Y O U  D O I N G  T H I S ?_ **

****

_because it’s time you come home._

 

It chills Otabek to the bone, because he knows the first set of words is Yuri’s hand writing and the second set is definitively not.

 

Something was in his room.

 

But that’s impossible, because Lilia already said that it’s not possible no one could come in—

 

THINK. _RATIONALLY_. GOD DAMMIT.

 

Otabek tries again. There _has_ to be an explanation. The brain can do incredible, terrifying things when it wants to. Otabek thinks back to the way that when he was a child, he was convinced that he needed to tap the doorknob three times or else the murderer would come for him and his parents. He wonders if maybe Yuri somehow did write this, if his brain conjured up the same stalker for him that it did for his mother and made some hand writing to go with it—

 

He wants to believe that, he knows he should believe that because mental illness can do a lot to a person, but he’s still deeply unsettled by the writing. It looks labored, unnatural, like it was made by someone who doesn’t truly know how to write normally—

 

Otabek is startled when the still silence in the room breaks.

 

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Lilia asks. “It’s... just not like Yuri.”

 

“... I want to show you something.” Otabek decides, because he wonders if Lilia will draw the same parallels that he did.

 

“Sure. Let’s go to the kitchen where there’s more light. You must be starving, anyway.”

 

Otabek didn’t even realize how empty his stomach felt until Lilia pointed it out, because all he could focus on was the emptiness in his heart.

 

* * *

 

The borscht and bread Lilia prepared are divine- especially on an empty stomach.

 

The brunette has finally taken off his coat and backpack and set them on an empty chair at the table, and their absence makes him aware of how fatigued he is from carrying them on his back for the past twenty-four hours.

 

He glances across the table at Lilia, who is deeply engrossed in the diary that Otabek handed to her. The way she stares like steel at the pages, jaw set in concentration, reminds the Kazakh a lot of the way that Yuri used to look at the ballet bar when he first saw him all those years ago—

 

“You may have as much borscht and bread as you like. There’s plenty there.” The former ballerina comments, turning a page. It’s like she felt Otabek’s eyes on her without even seeing them. “I have some more pages to go.”

 

Otabek nods, and gets a second helping to let the older woman concentrate in peace.

 

It’s a while more before Lilia finally addresses him again, her finger where she stopped reading on the page, and looks up.

 

“Yuri is drawing it. Whatever she thinks she saw.” She comments, and it’s so matter of fact that Otabek doesn’t feel irrational for thinking it anymore.

 

“Yes.” He agrees. “I guess... well, I’m wondering if he’s read this before.”

 

Lilia furrows her brow and glances up, like she’s searching for answers in the air.

 

“Anything is possible, and it would be an easy way to explain this... but I’m not sure he has.”

 

“Oh?” Otabek asks, and although it’s somehow more unsettling to think Yuri started seeing these things on his own he just needs the truth.

 

“Well, there are things in here that, if Yuri knew them, would probably change the way he talks about his childhood. He’s under the impression that his mother always intended to surrender him to his grandparents, maybe to run off with his father somewhere. I think he's not even sure about that last bit, though, and I'm not either anymore.”

 

Otabek frowns a little.

 

“Because it looks like here...”

 

“She fully intended to care for him.”

 

“Right. And there’s no mention of his mother making any plans with his father like that. It seems as though they’re not on great terms towards the end of this.” Otabek tries, and Lilia nods in agreement.

 

The both glance down at the diary and the sketchbook on the table, both of their brains working a mile a minute trying to connect the dots between the two.

 

“Do you think he knew?” Otabek starts. “Do you think that he understood his mother’s... illness, perhaps?”

 

Lilia hums.

 

“I’m not sure. I mean, I’m sure he’s heard the whisperings from paparazzi about her having some sort of nervous break, but I’m not sure he believes them- or if he does, perhaps he doesn’t understand the nature of what happened. Many of them think that it was depression, after the baby you know. Or they think she ran off with the father, which we now know doesn’t make a lot of sense. And I’m not really sure about everything that his grandparents told him, he just knew that she wasn’t around and she had some problems.”

 

“He’s never talked about it, I suppose?”

 

“When he has, it hasn’t been in detail like... well, this.” Lilia gestures at the books. “He’s a little bitter that she left and all, he seems to think that she just didn’t want him, and he’s said his Grandfather said she was just battling with a lot of demons and had a hard time sticking around. But he’s not sure what she was dealing with, like what her problems would have been.”

 

Otabek nods, and they’re silent a while again. It sounds about like what Yuri has told him about the situation, but he had to check just to be sure. He’s not sure how to say what he wants to say next, and he needs a minute.

 

“Do you think he’s... really seeing this? Do you think either of them were?” He finally tries.

 

“It’s a good question. I mean, I’m sure they are sure they’re really seeing it. Whether or not what they’re seeing is really there is up for debate. The mind can do... incredible, terrible things, under the right circumstances.” Lilia started. She pauses only for a moment, and then decides to share an anecdote from her ballet career.

 

“I know that when I was young I once stayed up so long practicing for an audition— and it payed off, I got the part— but I was very sure I could hear someone in the fitting room with me, whispering these things, and there just... wasn’t anyone. And I was so scared, and I kept looking over my shoulder the whole way home and checked that the door was locked twice, and after a long sleep I finally felt okay again. And Yuri works hard, he’s constantly at the point of exhaustion like that I’m sure. Kids these days don’t make time for rest like we used to.”

 

Otabek nods, and he _wants_ to believe that that’s all it is, but some doubt lingers.

 

“If that’s what it was, do you think that he would be back by now?” He asks.

 

Lilia sighs.

 

“Yes.”

 

The silence hangs between them again.

 

“I wish that was all it was. But admittedly... it looks like it might be something different, judging by his family history.”

 

Otabek nods slowly. He doesn’t want to ask what he’s about to ask, but he needs to know.

 

“Do you think there’s any possibility that someone really could have been following him?”

 

Puma Tiger Scorpion, from her food bowl, yowls low and harsh. It’s eerie that she does so right after he asks.

 

“I... well, there’s always his fans. But they’re teenage girls, and while they can be kind of a nuisance I’ve never seen one that actually wanted to harm him. And at any rate, they usually only hassle him at the rink now and again. We’ve never had one follow him here, and if we ever did I’d make sure they learned that here was strictly off limits.” Lilia stops, but then decides that there’s more to be said.

 

“But even if there was- a stalker, I suppose- I don’t know that they would have had anything to do with him leaving that night. I always lock everything, and Yuri knows the windows in his room need to be locked when we go to sleep. The alarm was on, so I know that everything had to be closed. The only way that someone could have gotten in or out, barring some sort of magic, would have been for one of us to disarm the alarm system. Which makes everything more confusing.”

 

“Yeah?” Otabek asks, and Lilia nods.

 

“Lets say Yuri disarmed it—which honestly I don’t think he did, it makes a loud noise when that happens and I would have heard it— but let’s say he did. Why would he disarm the alarm if he thought someone dangerous was outside? I don’t think he would. Which means if he disarmed the alarm, he would have either known who was outside and felt safe, or maybe knew that there was no one outside. Although it still doesn’t explain why he went outside or where he went, either way.”

 

“Do you think he went outside?” Otabek asks. It seems like a stupid question, but it seems like Lilia is holding something back from him. Maybe asking will prompt her to share.

 

“Well he’s gone now, so he must have. But I... really didn’t think he did, at first. After I set the alarm and went to go to bed, I could hear Yuri in his room. I thought he was making a phone call, because he was talking, but there was something strange about it. Like... maybe really bad feedback from the phone. This kind of crackly, whispering sound. But it was very loud, and I was going to ask Yuri to turn the phone down if he didn’t on his own in a few minutes.”

 

“...Yuri never called me that night.” Otabek offers. He supposes Yuri could have called anyone- or maybe someone called him.

 

“It wasn’t his grandfather, either.” Lilia offers. “So he’s talking, to someone. And he paces when he talks. And then everything just... stops. It’s so quiet. The phone noise stopped, Yuri talking stopped, the pacing stopped. I assumed he just crawled into bed and went to sleep.”

 

“But then he wasn’t there in the morning?”

 

“No. But what bothers me was it was so quiet. It’s almost like when all of the noise stopped he was gone, but he couldn’t have left from his room because it would have tripped the alarm. So I’m just not sure what happened.”

 

Otabek’s heart is in his throat.

 

“Do you think he snuck out sometime later to meet... whoever he was talking to? Or maybe tried to get away from whoever was watching after he thought they left?” Either thought sickens him, but he wants to know where Yuri went more desperately than he doesn’t want to think about this.

 

Lilia smiles a sad smile.

 

“He would have been safer in the house, if he had been trying to keep away from someone watching. He would know that, he may be impulsive but he's not dumb. And who would he even want to go and meet that we haven’t already asked? His whole life is here in Russia or with you. There are not many people Yuri has an interest in speaking with, much less going out into the night for.”

 

_Not many people_ , Otabek mulls over in his mind, then catches a glimpse of the diary on the table. But maybe one more set that they didn’t consider before.

 

“... Do you think his parents contacted him?” Otabek finally manages. “I mean, they know who Yuri is. Do you think maybe he’s doing so well that they wanted some part of that, again?”

 

The ballet stars eyes light up.

 

“It’s an intriguing thought. It would be odd, because this was quite a long time to wait, but Yuri is sentimental enough that they might have been enough of a reason for him to leave. It doesn’t explain why he left... the way he did though. Unless... unless he and his mother are playing off of each other’s delusions. He did post one of these drawings on his social media, the other day.”

 

“Maybe she keeps tabs on him. Maybe she saw it.” Otabek considers.

 

“Perhaps. Hard to verify though, seeing as no one has seen her for years. The last sighting of her was brief, when Yuri was ten or eleven maybe.”

 

That recent? Yuri’s never mentioned it. Perhaps it happened far away from him, or no one told him to spare him the grief.

 

“Where was that?” Otabek asks, and Lilia moves from the table to her desk drawer to pull out a newspaper clipping.

 

“Canada, of all places. She had heard that Yuri started skating in the ISU’s novice division and briefly appeared at a competition to watch him. I don’t think Yuri would have recognized her, though. And Yakov didn’t know enough to at that point either. He read about it later. The picture of her shows her talking to the Leroy family though, you can tell from the coaching jacket.”

 

Otabek furrows his brow.

 

“JJ’s family? I mean, they have a lot of connections, but what do they have to do with an ex-model from Russia?”

 

“Not sure. They never went on record to say what they heard. People with more money than God can’t be bribed with cheap tabloid rewards.”

 

“... I think I need to go there, next.” Otabek decides. He knows the Leroys from when he spent some time in Canada. While JJ could be a little exhausting— completely annoying, if you ask Yuri— he has good hospitality, and Otabek remembers that his family was nice enough. He’s sure they’ll help, once they understand the gravity of the situation.

 

Especially now that they know that Yuri’s mom was keeping tabs on the blonde as little as eight years ago.

 

“You need to sleep first, then have some breakfast. Then you can think about getting there.”

 

Otabek wants to say he’s fine, wants to just keep going, but he’s light headed and his feet feel like lead. Sleep probably isn’t a bad idea. Then he can get his head together and formulate just what he wants to ask the Leroys when he goes.

 

And besides, if Yuri does come home tonight at least Otabek will be right there waiting for him.


	4. uoy hcaer reve nac I fI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ̲̰͈̱͎͜ư̺̳̞͍̬̤̘̲̥̣͇͇͜o͢҉̝̦̖̲͔͍̺͇̩̻͚̟͚̺̞̤y̴͞͏͎̣̩̙̥̮̪̜͈̱͎̮̩̬͈͙̲̼͇ ͠͏̱̭̮͕̝͎̰̻̮ͅͅt̶̡̩̖͚̤̝̲n̴̵̢̤̼͔̱̝̭̠͖̞̩͉͞a̸͏̷̦̼͚͍͢w̵̡͉̤̣̯͉̝̼̱̠͖͕̱͟ͅͅ ͡͏̟̺̫̫̘̲̖̜̼̗̺ͅͅI̷̧̧͙̠̭͔̮̤͓̞̠͎̙̲̺ ͝҉̝͍̪͔̻͎͕̮̩͙̥̘̞ͅ ̶̰͍̙͈̘̞̹̭̟͕͉̼͜͜͜s̡̢̹̳͎͔̯̱r̴͏̯͉͇̭̰͉͇̙̲̜̮̜ͅu̴̵̜̺̰͔̝̠̻͓̲͘̕͟o͏̵̹̙̥͚̘̙͚͍̩̥ͅy̸̨̖͍͍̩͎͎͖͓̱͈̫̙̙̦͞ ͞҉̮͉̣̻̦͕̜̕f̢͏̺̝̙̱͡o̷͓̮̟̫̲͔̩̟̤̫͚̬͕̱̱̘͕̮͞ ̭̼̣͇̥̙̞̕͢͞t͉̱̪̱̜͘͠ͅư̴̜̭̝͕̲͠o̡̨̘̺͕̝͎̙͍̦̦̼̟͞ ̶̰̺̣͖͘͠e̢̛҉̣̱̼̫͍m̷̩̤̗͈̖̜͜͞͡o̱̰̮̬̣̰̞̯̦̙̪̰͉̙͈̹̪̕͞c̵̣̦͍͚̞̩̦̬̺̬̦̼̣̳̮̟͖͡ ̸̰̰͈͚̙͢t͘҉̗͚̻͖̪̰̩̗͍̼̹̟a̵̛̻͕̺̺͙̩͜͞͝h̸̡̖̳̼̺̤̖̳͓̼̬̗̠̠̟͎̺̞͡͡t̛̳̠̩̟̬̳̬̞̰̭͚̲͘͢͢͟ ̶̴̦̰͈̱͈͔̗̙͓͓̗̭̝̗̬͈͇͢͝͡s̶̢͓͚̯̕d̶̺̳͓̹͉̯̖̩͡r̨҉̛͇̠̗̦̖̪͖̼͙͓̹̣̳̺̻̖̤͞ͅơ͈͈̖̠͚̲̰̬̼̣̠͓͜͡͠ͅͅw̴̢̞̱̤͕̠̳͔͍̝̹̩͕̤̝̝͙ ̨̡̤͈̩̥̥͎̦̗̩̦͘͜e͓̯͙̝͘͝h͍͇̲̖̗̬̮͎̯͙͇̖̬̗̩̱̲͢t̶̵̴̴̶̘̯̩ ̸̡̯͍̬̤͚̬͕͎̩͕̼̰ͅy͜͞҉̵̮̝͕͕̳̘̲͇̤a͖̫̦̙̲͡w̧̧̮͔̮̙̙̣͔s̶̶̵̫̩̟̬̬̘͠͞

* * *

 

u̮̮͕̲̙̺̲o̫̳y̮̭̤̲̗͔̳͢ ͓͙̘͇̯̗h̡͎c͈̦̫̫̗̤ͅa̩̬͓͓eŗ̭͓̙̜̣̞ ̷̮̼̪̳̫̱r͍̘͚̼̰̩e̴̱̟̫̺͕̘͓v̟̣e͚͙̻͈ ̲̣̙ṋ̬ͅa̶̹̳̝̦͎̤ͅc̡̣̻̞ ̶̤̪I͈ f̨̝͙I̡͚ ̷̹͇͎͉͔  
̟̰t͍̻̰͙͟s̩r͕̭̝͎͕͎͎i̧̬f̭ ̦͚u̟̠͇̩̤̟o̢̰̦y̙̜͖̘̣͡ͅ ͏hc̳a̦͙e͈̬͎̩̩͖̲r̢̘̘ ̼̼̖̥̤ͅo̥͈t͇ d̩e̥̼̩͖̮͎en̷̼ ̖͢I̦̼͔̫͎͟ ̭͉̘̥̪͟tu̸̳̳̫B̺̖͎̻̻ ̫͕͢ ̢̲  
e̲̪͓͈̬s̝̙̺̣l̗̟e̠̩̯̜̙̹ ̩y̫͉̼͙̞͍d̯̦̬̝̳̲o̩̯̤̹͍͔b̥̹͇̮̖͢o̝̼̫̮̜̱̠n̯̯͢ ͍̥̟̯̪͎̘d̴͙n̤̠̭a͇̥͕̱͈ͅ ͎̦̥̹͇͈̘e͇̖m̵͍ ͔̩͕h͉̺̫͈͙̗̥͢t̞̲͍͚i̗̟̻͘ͅw̙̘̳̬̹ ̵̙̜̬͈͇͉e̷̜͈͚ͅb̭̖̬͚͠ ͘o̶̜̼̤ţ͇ ͉̻̰͟ͅu̦̟̼̕oỵ̤̫̫͕̮͟ ҉̤̳̥̪͙̗t̘̠̺ͅn͇̩̩̪̱ąw̡ ̦̻̞̭I̸̮ ̸͉̣̱͖̰̗͙ ̝͖̪̻ͅͅ ̬̺͕̹̹ͅ ̟̘̱̥̭ͅf̡̥̹̟̝̗  
l҉̖̼̩̯̫e̞s̷͇̦̟y͕͍m̩͔ ҉̠o̺̪̺̮͓͖t̝̞̰̞ ̪͎̯̟̰͜l̢̟̥͉̠l͍̗̙͙͍a͇̟̥̩͎͡ ̥̭͇͚̮̝̼u͎͚̙̫o̩̤ͅy̖̼̹͚̲͜ ͙̦̜̞͔̙͓͟t͎̟͉͚n͈͉̺̟͚a͚̟̜̠̼͈̳w ͏͈͕̠̦̞̞I̞̫̫̺̬ ҉̳̙ ͇̳͉̖̜͢  
s̕r͏u̡̪͇̫̺̟͈o̸y̭̩ ̼̺f͏̙͔̯̤o̹ ṯ̻uͅo͏ ͕̞͟e͞m̤̙̗͚ơ̤̩̹̺̲c̰̯̜̗̠̹ ͇̘̝̯̮ţ̹̳̤̤a͕̫̰̩̜̳h̙͖͇̗͈t̟̫͇̱ ̤̼̠̰͘s͙̹d̘̥̭̘͍͖r͈o̼̝w͉̫̤̞͓͟ ̺̝͚̤͚̝͚͘e̻h͕͎͎̯͡t̨ ͏͈͇̼̫̩y̠̦̲͕a̝̦̦̳̪w͈̰̞͘s̷͖̜͖̙̥̖͔ ̲͍͙̪̝͙t̮o̱̳̬̱̞̲̦n̸̮͍̮n̛̞ͅa̸c͏͚̮̬̖̣ ͍̗̝͟y͉͔̲͜e͍̻̮͓͓͜ͅh̜̩̯͎̟̙t̖̟͕̘ͅ ̼̪̠͚̩o̹̥S̪̩̹͚̖ ̡̮̹ ͙͔̦  
hṭu̯͘ơ̜͓m̬͚̜̭̼̣͕ ͏̯̦̲̪y̫͈͜m̮͙ ͚̬̥f̡͎̳̬̮o̯͞ ͙̤͕̗̰̝͔t̴̠̤̫u͕̬̙̱̞̳o̲͍ ̰̤͖͖̖ͅg̛̮̖͇͍n̪͝i̠̹̥͖m̼̣͉̣o͉̝͍c̤̗̮̲̣͞ ̤̳͍͉e͖͓̭̯̞̱r̢a̴̟̲̣̬̪ ̪̼̼t̰̻̖̝͙͚̮a̦͉̫͇̱̘ͅh̳͇̲͎t̩ ̭̠̪s̸̠̜͖͚̥̥ͅd̕r҉̗̦͚ow͏̙͍͎̲ ̵͙͈̫e̝̗͇̟ͅh҉͕̜̮̜͎ͅt̨̲͓̞̻̳͓̻ ͕͇̞̱͙ez̘̣̫i̴̼̹͉n̬̗̳̥̯̰go̶͔̺̫̬̲̫c̗̞͖̭̝e̠̳͝r̨͚̹̻̭ t̯̩o̜̰̭͉͚n̸̠̝̩͕̙̖ ͏̲̤̬͙͇o̱̝̹̥̝͝ͅd̮͇͍̩͍ ̮̥̯̲̦̖̣I̼̻  
̵͓̖ ͍̺̗̤̘͓ ̳͜d̛͖n̢̯̮͙a̸͎̹͖̲ ̲̝͖̩͞y̢̦̝͉a̞̟͓ͅw͍̰̜͖̤͘a̛̪͈̬̱͉̩ ̫̻̘r̴̭̲͚̰̞̲ͅa͍̻̻̟̗͖̖f ̲͞o̯̲̬̱͙̳̖͟o̳̼͎̲̱͈ͅt̫̺͎̹̺̱͙ ̴̲̥͓̘̲̘̯m̴̬̹a̖̥̙̪͟ ̘̮͉I̡͇̯̞ ͉̼̳̤ ̱̪̘͍͙̦  
e̕s̛̮͍u̥̝̖͢ac͏͕̥̼̱e̢̠̬ͅb͚͔͙͖̮ ̧̱̫e͘m͍͚̠̞̩̲ ̶͉r͉ͅa̫̳̱̘̪̥ͅe̙͍̺̮͉̜ẖ̥͈͚͙͚ ͇̼̮͠t̯̱̳͓̯̮o̥͍͕̳͢n̖̦͎͙n͖̮͙ͅac̫̰͉͖̜̥͝ ͖̻̺u̙̣̩̮̼̥̻o̥̣͓̖̹̝̫͟y͖ ̟̣̣̞̺͔ͅt̘̤͙̜͎̮̦͜u͓B ͈̯̟̙͚̝ ͏͈͙͈̪̱͍͕  
u̢͕o̡̪̤̱͙͖̮y̳̙̪͉ ̥̙̻͟h̡͕̪̠͕̪̬͔c̺̞̭̘̘͖͖a̷̱̩e̫̟͚͓͔̺͎͢r̤̜͇̮͙̤̪ ̭͖͢o̜̹̺̺ͅṰ̖ ͘ ̼̘̙̹̭̝ ̟̱̲͕̣͉͟g̻̭͕͙̙̯͈͟n̰̦͎͉̗̥͜ͅiy̝r̭̲̣̣̫̭̻t̨ ͖m̲̤̥̥̦͍͎a̮̣̞̮͖̗͞ ̶͔̗̮I

 


	5. Toronto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Alain and Nathalie Leory tell Otabek a disturbing story about Yuri's mother. JJ shows him something Yuri took that's even more unnerving._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hello all! It's been a while, but I'm pleased to say that I did not drop this! I've just been working at it to get the right feeling. This chapter has evolved quite a bit, and I'm proud of it. Enjoy! And to those of you who leave comments, kudos, and even bookmark, thank you so very much from the bottom of my heart. I love hearing from you all. :)_

There was something strangely comforting about waking up to the smell of Yuri’s sheets.

 

Still though, it didn’t negate the fact that Yuri was gone.

 

Otabek had fallen asleep there last evening, trying desperately to put the pieces of this puzzle together. He’d managed to break into Yuri’s phone- the code was Puma Tiger Scorpion’s birthday, which he had only told the Kazakh about a million times- and what he found confused him more.

 

The last person that Yuri had called was Otabek, the night before.

 

There were no other phone calls. It was still possible that Yuri _had_ , indeed, spoken to someone else but then deleted the call, but they would have no way of knowing that or proving it. They also, really, had no hope of finding out who Yuri had talked to if he did.

 

A part of Otabek just wanted to stay in Yuri’s bed and keep breathing the last traces of him in, but there was a bigger, more urgent pull for him to get up and keep looking for the blonde.

 

He sighs, takes one more deep breath in, and then rolls over to pick up his phone. He fiddles with his contact list, suddenly feeling very, very awkward about calling JJ up again because it’s been months since they’ve even exchanged words, but this is too important to put off.

 

He hits call. He doesn’t even wait three rings before JJ picks up.

 

“Hey, long time no see man- what’s going on?” The voice from the other end of the line starts, and Otabek swallows thickly.

 

Here goes.

 

“Hi JJ. Um... listen, I’m sorry to have to bother you—”

 

“It’s not a bother.” The Canadian comments, and although JJ can be grating at times the Kazakh appreciates how easy going he usually is in moments like this.

 

“Uhm... I don’t know how to preface this, so I guess I’ll just say it. Yuri is... Yuri is missing.”

 

Otabek’s heart sinks like a stone in his chest, and somehow he didn’t expect saying it to fucking _hurt_ so much. It’s almost like it somehow made the whole thing more dreadfully, terribly, real.

 

“What?! Oh my god. Dude I’m so sorry. Did you two get in a fight or something? I mean I don’t think he’d come my way or anything, but if he does I can try and talk him down.”

 

“Well, that’s the strange part. Things were just so... normal. He seemed fine when we were talking, and he was kind of... tired at the rink I guess, so this kind of caught all of us off guard. But... we’re learning he was going through some things, I guess, and...”

 

Otabek isn’t sure how to ask the favor he needs to ask.

 

“Do you think he’s okay? Like, is he safe?”

 

Somehow JJ asking that chills Otabek to the bone.

 

“We don’t know.” He answers, in a voice that feels to small for himself. “I— listen, I—.”

 

Otabek can’t finish right then. JJ waits a while, and then tries offering a thought of his own.

 

“Just because Yuri and I aren’t really close doesn’t mean that we wouldn’t try and help look for him.”

 

The Kazakh nods slowly, trying to form words to follow.

 

“I think... I saw in the paper from years ago that your parents might have talked to Yuri’s mom without knowing it. I just... I kind of wonder if maybe that’s where Yuri went, with his mom I mean, and I wondered if maybe that’s... god. I’m sorry. This has been the longest few days of my life.”

 

The weight of his words can be felt through the phone, and the Canadian tries to help.

 

“Do you want to come by? I mean, we haven’t seen him, but we might be able to figure something out. Even just looking might help.”

 

“That would be great, honestly. I can be on a plane by this afternoon, I’m sure. I can just wait in the airport if you’re busy.”

 

“What? Otabek, it’s been forever since you’ve been here. Mom would flip if I just left you there for hours. Just let us know when you’ll be getting in, I’ll come down. I’ll let mom and dad know what’s going on too, in case they see him or something.”

 

“Great. Thank you, I really owe you one.”

 

“Hey, maybe come visit more than once every three years.” The Canadian laughs, but then remembers that Otabek probably can’t really take a joke right now. “But seriously, we’ll see you there.”

 

“Great- thank you.”

 

“No problem. See you then. Text me when you know when.”

 

“Will do.”

 

The phone line clicks, and for a split second Otabek hears a hissing before the line cuts off.

 

He must not have slept as well as he thought. He sighs and sits up anyway, determined to find the cheapest and fastest plane ticket to Toronto that he can.

 

* * *

 

The sky is dark like his heart when his plane lands.

 

There’s a steady drift of snow falling from the sky, and he might have marveled over how beautiful it was if he wasn’t feeling so despondent about everything.

 

Lilia helped him with this plane ticket too (although she didn’t have to) and cautioned him to travel safely. There’s something about a recent loss that makes everyone more afraid of losing more, Otabek can’t help but think. He wonders if he would relate more if he hadn’t already lost just about everything that he was afraid of losing already, with Yuri having already gone missing.

 

He walks through the airport terminal, feeling like he’s moving in slow motion. He scans the terminal, wincing as he catches sight of tabloids with photos of Yuri and the word _missing_ plastered over them. He looks away abruptly, and it’s lucky that he does just then because he spots JJ across the room, waving, and he waves back and makes his way over.

 

“I really can’t thank you enough for this.” He says once he’s close enough to hear with his hoarse voice, and JJ offers a warm smile.

 

“What else are friends for anyway? We lived together for years anyway, sharing a rink and all.”

 

Otabek can’t help but smile a little, because _god_ that probably infuriates Yuri, but it also might be what finally helps Otabek bring the blonde home.

 

“Is Isabella here?” He asks, and JJ shakes his head.

 

“Nah, not right now. She’s doing something with her mom this weekend. She’ll be back later.”

 

Otabek nods and adjusts the backpack on his shoulder.

 

“Are you hungry?” JJ asks, and Otabek shrugs.

 

“I’m not sure honestly. I think I can wait until we get back into town though, so we’re not stuck with airplane food.”

 

JJ laughs.

 

“Probably a solid idea.”

 

They end up just walking back to the car, which is freezing even though it hasn’t been there for more than an hour. They try to warm it quickly, and JJ starts down the road back towards the rink they shared for years and towards the Leroy household.

 

“So... when you said Yuri was going through some stuff, what did you mean? I mean, it always kind of seems like he’s in a mood, but was something... like, actually wrong?” The taller man asks.

 

Otabek can’t help but smile.

 

“Yuri just feels things really deeply- I think a lot of people think he has a bad attitude, but he’s just sensitive. You’re right that that’s kind of his default, though. But see usually, he has no problem telling people what he thinks about a situation. And this time he... he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t tell anyone anything.”

 

“So something specific happened?”

 

“Well, we’re not really sure is the problem. We do know what happened in the last two days before he went missing, but it didn’t seem important until we found his sketchbook.”

 

“Was he talking about finding his mom or something?”

 

“Not quite. He thought someone was watching him, maybe stalking him. I think he was nervous.”

 

“Like a fan?”

 

“That we’re not sure about. What bothers us is... well, he disappeared from in Lilia’s locked house. He would have had to...”

 

Otabek’s voice stops. JJ picks up.

 

“He would have had to go willingly.”

 

“Yes.” The Kazakh almost whispers. It’s a hard pill to swallow, even a second time.

 

“Do you think it was his mom?”

 

“Maybe. We’re not sure who else it would be.”

 

“Unless someone else he knows isn’t being entirely honest about what they know.” JJ points out. The thought sends chills down Otabek’s spine, and the Canadian senses the tension in the air thicken.

 

“Sorry, sorry. That’s probably a completely ridiculous idea.” JJ says, but what makes it upsetting is that it’s completely plausible. “Let’s just get back and ask ma and dad what they remember.”

 

That’s about all that Otabek can handle at this point anyway.

 

* * *

 

Despite the dark of the sky, the Leroy home looks almost cheerful with its well-lit windows.

 

Otabek can’t find any cheer within himself, though, what with the idea that someone he’s already talked to has possibly taken Yuri and how well does he really know Victor, Yakov, any of the Russians that aren’t Yuri anyway—

 

He’s sick to his stomach and all he wants to do is crawl right out his skin and find a way to leave his body here to ask questions and take his soul back to Russia to look further.

 

Fuck. He must really be sleep deprived or heartbroken or both to come up with something like that.

 

“Otabek, sweetie, come sit down. You look like you need some rest.” Mrs. Nathalie Leroy offers.

 

It must be showing on his face.

 

Otabek sits down, almost mechanically, and nods “Thank you Mrs. Leroy.”

 

“We hear you have some questions for us, bud.” Mr. Alain Leroy starts, offering a smile that’s meant to read as friendly but just looks like he’s pitying the state that Otabek is in.

 

“I’m not sure if he’s ready for that, dear—” Nathalie starts, but before anything else happens Otabek asks one.

 

“Is it true that you saw Yuri’s mom one time?” Otabek asks, and with that the conversation starts.

 

JJ’s father nods.

 

“It was quite a while ago. She was an odd bird, that one- we kind of worried that maybe she was a bit... um, mistaken, about that. But when we talked to Yakov and Yuri’s grandfather later we were told that the woman we saw- you know the one in the photographs- actually was supposed to be Yuri’s mom. But that’s about the only thing about the whole story that made even a lick of sense.”

 

“She told you a story?” Otabek furrowed his brow as he asked.

 

“That’s the only thing I can think to call it.” Alain confirmed, and then turned to his wife. “It was just so... out there. Honey, do you remember what she was trying to say?”

 

Mrs. Leroy nods.

 

“Yes. I mean, we never told the press because we were tying to respect the poor woman’s privacy- it just seemed like she was, you know, maybe a little bit ill, going through some things. But I remember that she was trying to say that her child had been taken from her. Now at first I was kind of worried, because you know, that seems really serious right?”

 

Otabek nods, and she continues.

 

“So I asked her where she last remembered seeing him, thinking that maybe we could tell security to look out for the kid or a kidnapper or something, and she told me that he had been in his bassinet and he had been taken. And this is where it gets strange.”

 

She pauses for a moment, trying to formulate the best way to convey her words.

 

“So— so she’s pointing at the child currently on the ice, and that’s Yuri Plisetsky, and she’s saying that her child has been- my god, how did she put it?- _replaced_ with him. Something like Yuri is _supposed_ to be her child, but he isn’t. He’s the replacement. And at this point we’re both getting a little nervous because we’re thinking, you know, ‘oh my god, what is this woman planning to do with this kid?’”

 

Mr. Leroy nods.

 

“I had been trying to focus on her story and JJ at the same time so I hadn’t been saying much, but at that point I just felt the need to ask her if perhaps she was mistaken- because you know, sometimes the skating order can be adjusted. I just thought that maybe her English wasn’t so good and she meant that her kid was supposed to skate at this time block and somehow swapped it with another skater. That wasn’t it, though.”

 

“She insisted that that’s not what she meant.” Nathalie continues. “And she starts going on about, like— demons or ghosts or faeries or _something_ replacing her child with Yuri. And at this point we’d realized that maybe something wasn’t right and we just thought she needed to go.”

 

“We were a bit nervous honestly.” Alain picked up. “We offered to call her a cab to the local PD, but she said the police wouldn’t do anything. I mean she’s right, because her story was just... not reasonable, but she was saying that the police wouldn’t help _because_ Yuri’s grandfather would just disregard her story. Again. As though she had done this before.”

 

Nathalie nodded solemnly, sadly, and then continued on.

 

“We waved security over at that point. Honestly we didn’t mean to be cruel, we were just worried about the children. I was actually planning to just tell them that this woman had lost her child and needed assistance looking. I figured ‘let them figure her out, they’ll see the problem pretty quickly and do what they need to do’- but she bolted for the door once she saw them heading over. And that was the end of it.”

 

Otabek nods slowly, letting the information sink in. There was something particularly disturbing about how Yuri’s mother was so sure that Yuri wasn’t Yuri that she was willing to seek out help from complete strangers. That alone wouldn’t have been enough to convince Otabek that anything was askew, though. What worried him the most was that now Yuri, too, seemed to be sure he saw the demon, ghost, faerie, _something_ coming after him.

 

But why again? And if he had left with his mother, was he even safe? What _had_ she planned to do with Yuri, if she had gotten close to him?

 

“It makes for a very sensational, very disturbing story,” Nathalie commented, “but it doesn’t really help with much of anything. I mean, when we get right down to it it’s just gobbledygook. I feel bad for all of them though— I mean, Yuri is growing up without a mother, Yuri’s mother is so sick and just doesn’t understand, and Yuri’s grandfather is just doing his best to raise Yuri. It’s just all so _sad_. But that’s about all this story tells us, and I felt like if I ever told the press they would have just had a damn- oh, pardon- field day with it.”

 

Otabek wants to tell Mrs. Leroy about the journal and the sketchbook, wants to delve deeper into the whole mystery of it all, but he has a feeling that somehow it won’t help her remember anything more than she’s already told him.

 

“But I’m so sorry he’s missing, dear.” The older woman puts a hand on Otabek’s shoulder and continues. “To my knowledge he doesn’t know about this incident and wouldn’t have much a reason to come back here, but we will definitely keep an eye out for him and let you know if we see him.”

 

“I’m sure he’ll turn up soon.” Mr. Leroy offers, and Otabek wants to believe it but he’s not sure if he can.

 

A heavy silence hangs between them, and they’re all thinking the same thing but none of them want to say it.

 

A voice rings out from the doorway.

 

“What if Yuri is sick like that, too?”

 

The thought has been spoken. They turn. It’s one of JJ’s younger siblings- Jeena specifically. She’s grown quite taller since the last time Otabek saw her.

 

“Jeena, honey, I thought you’d already gone to bed.” Nathalie starts, a little flustered. “And please don’t say things like that, it’s unkind.”

 

“I did. But then I got thirsty. And I was just asking a question mom, I didn’t mean anything by it. Anyway, hi, Otabek.” The girl adds, smiling a little as she makes her way to the cabinet for a cup, and then to the fridge for some water. It’s been a while, although he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that she remembers him. She was at JJ’s skating rink frequently.

 

“Hi Jeena.” Otabek offers, and JJ chimes in.

 

“Jeena you can’t just crash a bro-hang out!” He teases.

 

“You let me come when Isabella visits.” She prods back, pouring herself some water from the chilled pitcher.

 

“ _Isabella_ lets you come when Isabella visits. Anyway, those aren’t bro hang outs. Get back to bed Jeena, you said you have that youth group trip tomorrow.”

 

“Fine.” She pretends to pout, heading back up the stairs with her water. “Farewell, Otabek.”

 

“See you later, Jeena.”

 

With that, the moment is gone.

 

“Would you like something to eat?” Nathalie asks, instead of resuming the earlier conversation. “You boys came all the way back from the airport after all. We have some lasagna that we can reheat from earlier.”

 

At this point, anything sounds fine to Otabek. It didn’t occur to him how long it had been since his last meal until now.

 

“Sounds great mom.” JJ answers, and with that they don’t talk about much of anything else aside from the weather and the food until they head off to bed.

 

But Otabek thinks about Yuri the whole time, and wonders if maybe the only thing that took Yuri is the same illness that took Yuri’s mother.

 

* * *

 

JJ lets Otabek have the couch in his room. Otabek has always wondered how JJ’s room is large enough to fit a bed and a decent sized couch, but he supposes that this is what privilege looks like.

 

He falls asleep and doesn’t think anything more of it- all that he can think about is Yuri, and he finds himself dreaming of him.

 

His dreams are not the usual rosy, romantic kind of scenarios that Otabek’s brain cooks up when he usually thinks about the blonde. This time they’re darker, more disturbing. It’s like he’s hearing TV static the whole time, and he can only see Yuri from a distance- every time he tries to get closer, Yuri moves just far enough away that they’re still an arms length apart.

 

Otabek tries to tell Yuri he loves him. He tries to tell Yuri he misses him, tries to ask the blonde where he is, and when Yuri opens his mouth the static just gets louder—

 

He wakes up on the floor, in the dim dawn of JJ’s room.

 

“Bad dream there, buddy?” JJ asks, yawning a little after he does.

 

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” Otabek asks, and JJ shook his head.

 

“Naw. I heard TV static- sometimes Jude falls asleep with the TV on, so I kind of just figured it was him.”

 

Jude was JJ’s younger brother, and evidently the owner of his own TV. Privilege.

 

“He must have just turned it off though,” JJ yawned, “because I don’t hear it anymore.”

 

Otabek wonders if maybe while he was asleep the sound was influencing his dreams. It makes the most sense, he’s sure, but he can’t help remembering what Lilia said about the way Yuri’s room sounded the night before he disappeared.

 

Or maybe he’s looking for parallels where there are none, because he thinks it will somehow make him find Yuri faster.

 

“Anyway- I’m sorry we didn’t have more for you, last night I mean. That’s about all that I can think of that they’ve ever said about the whole thing. And I’m sorry about... the thing that Jeena said.”

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Otabek says, sitting up. “I’m just trying to put all of the pieces together.”

 

“Do you think... I mean, do you think he’s just having some sort of nervous break somewhere? Like he’s okay, he’s just off doing whatever and thinking about demons or faeries or whatever?”

 

Otabek sighs. “I’m kind of worried he might be. I just... why wouldn’t he tell me, you know?”

 

The hurt in Otabek’s voice is evident, and JJ nods.

 

“...Maybe he was just trying to protect you.” JJ offers, and Otabek wants to believe that but a part of him knows that Yuri isn’t a martyr. He’ll share his pain like a bottle of booze being passed around friends- only, Otabek is his only friend.

 

“Or do you still think someone was really following him?” JJ asks suddenly, and Otabek shrugs.

 

“I’m sure Yuri is sure someone was following him. I mean, there’s a little bit of evidence to suggest that—”

 

“Woah- dude, have you been holding out on me?” The Canadian asks, trying to lighten the mood but not quite succeeding, and Otabek digs around in his backpack looking for the sketch book.

 

“Humor me for a minute.” The Kazakh instructs the other skater, and the taller man gets on the floor to sit next to him. Otabek flips through the sketchbook, finding a page where a Yuri has written something mundane. He finds a page with Puma Tiger Scorpion’s name on it, and a few song lyrics.

 

“I know you can’t read this,” he gestures at the cat’s name in Russian, but then he points to the English song lyrics, “but this was a song he liked. These are examples of Yuri’s hand writing.”

 

“They’re both the same size.” JJ observes. “Kind of big, kind of loopy... it looks like he writes smoothly.”

 

“Yes.” Otabek confirms. “He actually has really nice handwriting in Russian, and clean English. Now look at this.”

 

The Kazakh pages through to the page with a drawing of the _thing_ that’s been following him where Yuri asks a question, and gets a written response.

 

“This is Yuri.” Otabek points at the question:

 

**_W H Y  A R E  Y O U  D O I N G  T H I S ?_ **

****

Next, he points to:

****

_because it’s time you come home._

He says nothing.

 

“... this doesn’t look like the other handwriting.” JJ replies finally.

 

Thank god. It’s not just Otabek who thinks so.

 

“It doesn’t. It looks a lot... rougher.” Otabek nods slowly.

 

“Labored. Like this person isn’t sure how to hold a pencil right. It’s not as at ease as Yuri’s.” JJ comments.

 

“But who would have had time or space to do this, I guess is what I can’t figure out.” The Kazakh sighs. “I mean- they could have snuck into the rink if it was in Yuri’s bag for all I know, but then no one saw anything? Not at all?”

 

His suspicions are cast back towards Yuri’s rink mates all over again.

 

“Maybe there was something.” The Canadian finally offers, pulling out his phone. Otabek’s heart drops like it would on a roller coaster. Has he heard something that Otabek missed?

 

JJ is logging into instagram. Otabek is confused now, but he watches patiently as JJ finds Yuri’s profile and selects a post.

 

It’s a picture of Yuri, a selfie from a rainy day that Otabek remembers. Yuri is sitting on his windowsill, radiant as always even in the dim light, striking a pose for the camera.

 

JJ begins to scroll through the comments, mostly Yuri’s angels and a few from other skaters (Otabek included), until they come across the one that JJ made.

 

**Jjleroy!15: Yuri, who’s that in the picture with you?**

**yuri_plisetsky: hahaha asshole. just because my friends are in different countries doesn’t mean I don’t have them. I’m just less of a slut than you.**

Otabek raises a brow. He’s actually not sure why JJ is showing him this. It seems shockingly normal, by Yuri Plisetsky Standards.

 

“I... don’t follow.” He finally admits, and JJ goes back to the picture.

 

“Look closely.”

 

Otabek does. He looks at Yuri’s pouting lips, the dim light that catches the bridge of Yuri’s nose and the edge of his hair, the collar bone and shoulder that are exposed in his off the shoulder shirt, the rain out the window—

 

oh.

 

The window.

 

OH.

 

Outside the window.

 

_HOLY **FUCKING** SHIT!_

It’s outside the window, looking in.

 

_It’s watching._

 

“Do you see it?” JJ asks.

 

“Y-you— you were asking who... you see them, too. In the rain?” Otabek tries to get out.

 

JJ nods.

 

“... Someone _was_ watching him.” Otabek finally manages. Even if Yuri is sick there was at least once where someone was watching him. And it’s in this photo.

 

He can’t believe he didn’t notice this sooner.

 

It shatters him.

 

He bites his lip, eyes glassy, and JJ sets a hand on his shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I- I mean, I really thought everyone else saw it, you know? I thought it was some weird in-joke that I just wasn’t... in.”

 

Otabek sighs shakily, because that makes sense- admittedly, there are cliques in skating. And Yuri’s clique generally doesn’t overlap with JJ’s.

 

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes for everything and nothing in particular all at once, and JJ shakes his head.

 

“I should have said something.” JJ insists. “I should have tried harder, or told someone else, or literally anything—.”

 

“We didn’t know it was going to be... _like this_. Fuck why couldn’t have Yuri have just _told me_?” Otabek’s voice is quivering, and JJ looks down at the floor. There’s not a good answer. Or even if there was, it’s not like they could ask the blonde now.

 

“... Do you think Victor would have seen anyone? He lives around there, right?” JJ asks after a while, and Otabek shrugs.

 

“Dunno. I don’t even know if I trust him right now. I don’t know if I trust anyone back there. How can this be happening and they just- don’t know anything?” Otabek mumbles. It sounds crazy to say that. It _is_ crazy to say that. But how does Yuri just vanish when they were all supposed to be there—

 

_watching._

 

“You know who else might remember something about Yuri?” JJ finally offers. “Like, if you’re not ready to try Russia again and all?”

 

The Kazakh looks up. And the Canadian continues.

 

“Victor and Christophe... kind of had a thing, for a while. I mean, no one really knows what it was, but Christophe used to practice at Victor’s rink sometimes when he would stay over. He knew Yuri when he was young. And I hear he and Victor still talk.”

 

“Do you think maybe he would know something?” Otabek asks, and taller skater shrugs.

 

“I’m not sure. But if anyone else did have something, that’s not Russian I mean, it’s got to be him. I mean, maybe Yuuri Katsuki would know—”

 

“But do you think he would really contradict anything Victor is going to tell me?” Otabek asks.

 

“That’s what I mean. Victor is his fiancé. It’s unlikely he’d rat him out, if they are hiding something.” JJ rationalizes. “But Christophe might.”

 

Otabek agrees. He breathes deep and tries to compose himself.

 

“I’m going to go and talk to Christophe next.” He declares. JJ nods.

 

“I think I still have his number from the time we went clubbing together.” JJ offers. It comes as a slight surprise to Otabek that Christophe would have went outside of his usual clique to hang out with the Canadian man, but then again sometimes when you only know one other person at a competition in a foreign country it can be the safer to travel with them than with a stranger. And he could vaguely remember a time where they were the only two notable skaters in an early season competition.

 

“Would you mind?” Otabek asks. JJ misunderstands and calls Christophe for him.

 

Otabek is a little embarrassed, but he’s surprised by how easily the two seem to bullshit over the phone- at least he thinks that’s what they’re doing. They’re speaking in French, and Otabek forgot that that in itself might bring them together.

 

Eventually JJ’s tone sobers, and Otabek recognizes Yuri’s name being said. There’s a bit more back and forth, a lot of nodding, and when JJ puts down the phone he turns to Otabek.

 

“He says he’d be happy to have some company, and he’s sorry to hear about Yuri. He says the best he can do is up until the last GPF, but he’ll tell you everything he knows.”

 

Otabek is floored that went so smoothly. He and Chris have only really ever spoken at GPF events. He supposes maybe Christophe is more personable than he’d initially thought.

 

“You’ll probably want to head out soon, though- not that I’m kicking you out, but the flight to Switzerland can be a bear.”

 

Otabek nods. “I need to find tickets- would you mind if I take a moment?”

 

“Sure thing- oh shit, you probably need Chris’s phone number too for when you arrive.”

 

Otabek nods, and JJ passes off the information he needs.

 

In another three hours he’s on a plane leaving from Toronto heading to Zürich, closer than he’s been to finding Yuri for a while but somehow feeling like ( _read: fearing that_ ) Yuri is getting further and further away by every second.

 


	6. kcis ton ma I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ̢͕̭̳͔̳̞͓͕͍͔̗͙̤̠̬̭̟̱͞u̵̖̦͕̝̣̲̘̪͜o̴̷̢̯̖̼͉̙͚̺̱͘͟y͏̡̣̥͎̦̞͎͉̱̜͍͎͝ͅ ͏̧̩̲͙̻̻̱͍ͅg̵̛̻̩̺̝̦̻̩̬͙̲̦̘̦͔̥͍͜n̷̢̡̮͔̮̲̮͕̪͚̼͙̰̰͉̘͡͝ͅi̯̗͔͔̺̖̹̟͜͞ͅl̶̨͢҉̸͔̳̪̦͚̮̪̠̦͍͉̣̝ͅl̢͘͏̠̺̩̩̲̼̪͖ͅę̷̗̯̼̯̜͇̬͓͍̰̪̬͎̬̯͇ͅt͏҉̴̨̭̦͇̤̣̻̟͖̖̫̱̬͎͕̰͇̣ ̴̢͎̞̘̜̘̗̩̥͖̹̩̖̱͙̲͘r̸̜̺̳̻͍̮̣͇̜̫̜̱̩̱̮͟͜͟͠ȩ̷̯̤̯̣̩͍̥̯͚̜̜̰̯̪͍͇̖͓̱͟͞͞h̨̨̹̱̘̖̘̩͍͍ͅͅͅt҉̹͇͔͙͓̮͙͟͠e̶̖͎͇̜̠͕͓̳̭̲̦̬̥͓͕̬̲͢h͟͝͏̢̯͍̹̗͎̭̗̬̖̺̮̯ͅw̸̛͕̗̩̹̘̠̩̖̬͖̤̝̙͖̖͘͟ ̺̮̦͖͖̝̼͚̲͚͜͢ ͏̷̵̫̘͕̙̲̦̪̲̕͟w̤̲̖͇̹̙̳̳͎͘͝͡ͅo͍͖͓̩̺͚̼̗̳̺͕̞̬͘͟ͅn̷̛͔̠̪̟͇͜k̸̨͡͏̫̼̥̮̠͕̩̞̱̮̱̞̫ ̷̧͘̕͏̯̙͇͈̳̰̱̪̳͚̣̪̤͎̻t̸̶̢͕͙͖͉o̵͟͏̛̰̘̬̬̠̮͕͘ͅn̬̘̺̲̠̭͢ ̶̡͞҉͓̫͇̪͍͎̘̘̱̺o͏̢̧̜̼̻̭̬͎͞ͅd̶̬͍̯͍̳̣̗̙̳̥̖̹̪̝̭̹̜̪ ̵̴̧̡͇̞̙̮̰͟I͏̹̼͕̹̕ ̘͇̘̬̣͟͠d̷̷͚̼̬̥̠̪̝͢n̛͉͕͎̠̙̤̗̟̺͙͓̮̤̜̞̪͜a̷̩͔̭̖͓͉̥̼̺̤̩͉͞ ̧̢̗̖̲͕̼̥̥̱͔̫̦͠ ̡̨̱͉̲͉̘̬͠͝N̷͇͈̩̭̰͙̠̟̦O̷͢͏̜̜̺͙͘I̸̷͎̪͔̖̥͔̻͕̥̫͟T̴̡̢̬̙͍̟̭͔A̛͎͓͉̬͓̖͚͉̝̹̺͢N̺̲̤̠̻͕̝͓͘͠I̷̷̞͓̫͙̗̫̜̝̮̬̻̣͍̞͖̠̕M͏̧̨̧҉̺̱̹̦̪̙̯̥Ơ̡͓̟͎̺̫̪̼̕͝B̺͖̝̲̬̗̫͢A͓͇͕̜̱̩̱͘͝͞͡ ̵̢̝͓̫̜͖͉̥̣̱͢N҉̜̺͍͖̘̬̘̰͓̗̝̜̜̪̭̞͍͢A̢̛̺͙̺̝̲͈̻̻̯̩̪̪̠̭͓͓ͅ ̧͇̳̰͈͎̤̘͚̯̳̜̩͈͓̮̳͘ͅͅM̵̯̲̳̯̭͎͞A҉̵̶͈̮͍̺̳̙̝̝̹͙͡ͅ ̩̥̮̱͍̼̖̥͟͢͠I̹̞̦̪̗̲̼͚̺̟͖̦͢ ̧͜͠͠҉̙̭͖̖̝̳ ͡͏̨̛͇̦̜̱k͏҉̘̠̻̼͜͡c͈̼̰̦͉̱̮͓͠i̸̵͈̯̜̫̣̲̩̯͔̺̣͔̖͔̝̖͟͞ͅs̷̸̥͚̟̙͚̰̩͖̬͕̯̻͖͢͜ ̶̵̸̳̣̦͓͞ͅs̫͖͈̪͎̜̣̳͍͙͔̗̪̺͉̠͘͢͢͜͞i̦̖̬̪̜̭̝̼͙͢ͅ ̦͔̙̩̦̖̯̜͎̕͡

* * *

 

̬̼̣̘̣͍ ̧̙͍͈̳ ̭̥̩̭̤̰͢ͅ.̖̪̞y̮̠̪̦̱̬ṛ̺̞̘̯̫͢r͇̺o͞s̰̻͓̣̤͎ͅ ͙̭͔̗̰͕̱m̰͙̗͈̦͖̞͠’̭͇̞̙͉̖Į͓ .͎̠̬ͅu̺̩ͅo̷̜̟̝y̨̺̗ ͚̥e͇̥͜v͖̼̳͖͜o̦l̬̠̖̰ ͝I̼̹̦̹̦͠

̕ ҉͚.̠͟e̤̟͇͠sr̪o̱̼̩̭̻̲w̥ ̯̱͕̫͠r̝̙̦̥̗̠͎o̷͖͕̟̰̙̪ r̛̠et̰̘t̩̱̳e͙̤͠b͇̰͚͎̳ ̢̹̜̮̗̦̞̠si̩̖̦̟͜h̞̺t͉̯̻͚ ̮̝̱̠̗̬͡e͏k̖̪̼̺̭a̡̯̠̗̞ṃ̨̲ ̞̳͓͉d̦̯͔̦͈̪͔l̥͕͙͓̝̬̘uo̗̯͉̲̹w̺ ͕̗̯̥͉͡uo̶͕y̸̪̺͈ g̡̙͇̠̻̯͍n̰̞͉͙il̤le̦̝̪̘̠t̪̥̱̰͓͞ ̲̮͘r̵̼̣͔̘̜ͅe͖̤̝̞hte̷̠̖̜̮̬h̼̻͈̰̱͓͎w̹̼̬̳̻̻̲ ̖͙̬̗͝ ̹̯͖̫̼w̧̠o̝͓̣̠͙̙ͅņ̮̝k̟̜̤ ̴ţ͈o͔̻ͅn̷̼͓̲ ҉̭o͇̠͈̫͉̩͚d̡̝͕̝̝̪̣ ̜̟̗̥͜I̹̩̬͚̘ ̨

d̲͢n̠̻̥͇̝a͓̜̘͔̟̙ ̶͕ ̼͎͉̱

N͏͖̞̬̮͎͖̱O̪͎̳̬̦͙͙I̦̘̣͉̞̱T̮͈A͍̮͠NI̡̲͎M̸̬̬̦̥̤O̡͎̲̩B̶̦̺A̺ͅ ̞̘N̘̜̹̠̜̟A̖͈͕̘̪̜͎͡ ̸͎̰M̰͢A̛͔͈͙̥͉̺ ̪̱̜͕̩̺͘I͖̭͉ ͈̞̝̹ ̫͇

k̯̳c̛̼̖͎̦͕͓i̼̩ͅs̡͙͔̠ͅ ̼͎̠͙͘s͈̣̦̭̯̜i҉̱͉̲ ̹͔̤̹͡e̦̥̥̼̹͢ͅh͔͉͕̦̣̼s͓̳͔̞̥͝ ̲̣̤t͡a͇̥͔̰̱͘h̝͇͚͍͟ṱ͈̗̼̻ ̧̖̪y͔a̧͖̲͎w̴̟̜̰̳̳̻ ͎͔̜͙͟e̦̖͍̻ͅḥ͈t̲͈͈̞̣͇ ̳̰̠͟n̥͕͕i̢̫̜ͅ ̦̺̫͇̯͖͖k̥̣c̡͇̺i͕s̰̣̗̝͎ ̨̩͈̲t̡͓on҉͚̩̦͇ ̸͖̱̙̬m̮̻̠͡a̫̞̬ ̗I̱͎͇̯͚ ͏̦̱̗̣̗̣e̫̳̘͈̭s̭͉̪̞̙u̵̬̗̲̝͎͎a̤̞̗̹ͅc̯̞̯̕ͅe͙̲̘b̫͎̖ ̬͜ ͚͓̯̖d͈er̟̮̭͜e͢ḏn͓̣͙̖͍o͡ͅw͕͉̖͍̺͙ u͍̜̯͓̺͉ͅo̜̙͝y̪͇̻̰̘ ͖͖n̢̤̰̭̟͙a̟͓͠h͓̗t͕̠̻̪ ̣̺ ͅ ͓͔̰̺̥͕

de̙̼͍̙r͉̠͎͖̹̣a̼͙̪͓e͎̟̝̭f̶̮̞̹̠ ̜̟̳̭y̸̤e̗͍̜̻͕̬ht̠̬̤̤ ̴n̨̻̤̩͎̪a͙̺̺̳̥͉̖h̭̪̱͎̳̟ͅt͈ ̖̞ ̨̤̝̟̘͕̬ ̨͉̩̠ͅt̢̤͈͓

h̛͕̠̞͔g̳̙͈͈̜ͅu̥̪̻̜͓o̱̯̺̩̝͕h̥̥̩t͍̯̩̘̜͝ͅ ̡̘̮̭ͅI̫̞̥̟̙̞ ̦n̻̣͈̠͕͈͇a҉̠͓͍̼̲͍h̥͢t̷͎̞͉̙̰̘͚ ̲̖͙͔r̫̮̪̦̞̭̜e͖ht͎̝͎̗̻o̺̖͙̱͙̗m̻̙̫͖̫̠ ̪̘̻̞͚̗͕y̗̪̼̦̮̻m͕͇̭͙̮ ek͉͡i҉ͅl͚̭̫̪̼̳͟ ̙̲̝͖̙͔s͔̲s͖̟̬̯e̶ḻ͡ͅ ̣̦m̬̪͔a͖ ͈̣͎͇͉ͅI͟ ̳̼͚̭̙̦t̰͔̮͠a̴̮͔h̨͍̯̬͉̗͙t̲ ̧̳̱͖̠ͅṷ͚͔̲̪̘̜o͖̫̕y̵̠ ̢͎̤̦̥͓̯l̵̜l̶̖̞͚̣̺͔ͅe̸͍̦͎̹t̰͔̬͎ ̭͍ͅo̻̝̥͈̤͕̜t̸̙ ̲͓̭̱̦͔e҉̫͉͉̯͖͖k̩̙͈͎͖͇͢i̩l͟ ̝̬̖͓̝̳ͅd͖̦̤̱͇̳͡l̬̦͝u̖͉̖͉̘̞o̵̬̘̦͇̖ͅw̞͎ ̯Į̪͓̭̦͔ ͇̺ ̖̳̰̖ ̻̫͎̫͢.̗̣̤̱̬͖̰

ģ̙n̬͞i̠̼̫̫̯̻͙w̻̯͕̬͜o̤̼n̪̕k̲̼͇̮̭͉̟ ͎͙̲̣̬to̜n̨̞ ̯͉͎̱̯̳o͙̟̝̰̲̗t̝ ̘͇̖̩ḏ͓̜̣̝e͝r̪̻a͔̰̖̝͓͖̦p͕m̡o͏̪̪̠̟̰c̳͚̞̹ ͙̰̟̲e̬̮͓̗b̯̮ ̯̙̤̣̯̹o͕t̫͜ ̴͖̳̹̗͎ͅl̦͈̣͙̕u̱̙̬͇͠f͏̦̮̘̮̲n̙̜̥̬̯̮̝i̩̝͖a̢̬̹͇̻̪͖p ͇o̶̥̻̱o҉̬͈̭̯̤ͅţ̘͖̣̥ ͖͉̯͙̺̠͖s̶̠͉̘͍i͓̘̤̠̭͔ ̟g͙̝̘̗̯n̸i̠͙͖͓̼w̗̲o͏͉̪̙n̴̩͉͉̘̦ͅͅk̬̹̣̬̹̟̼͞ ̻̻̻͉͚̩̰e͢b̧y͟a̘̰̣̘̞m̧̱̘̦͖ ̦̼̺̟̲ͅrO̞͙ͅ

̛̲̺͓̱e̟u̖̟̩̮̺̘͘r̥̞t̞̮̠ ̛͕̭̬̣̙ͅs̙̖͈̟͓͍̬͡i̖͝ ̲̖̩͍̦̬͎t͈̖͓͕̘ḁ͚̗h̭ṱ̸̟̤̹̱̩ ͙̝͜e͓b̟̤̯̝̞̳̰̕y͖͎̯a̘̱̮͇ͅM̯̦͉̩̹ ͘ ̤̹̯̟͉͘ ̨͉͎̳̝.̠͇̻̩͍̭̮

e̷̗͈̜̲̪̗̩s̖̼̟̞r͚̙̞̗͘ow̦̼̳̥̠̹͎ ̱͚͓̰ͅs͉̣̦i͏ ̬͕̖ģ̟͚͖̖̠n̝̣͚͞i͔̠͓wo̬͈̪̬̤͝n̸͇̗k̢̤̝ ̫̙̭t̨͕̰̣̭on͍̬̞̝̼̥ ̺̯͙̖̲̻ta͎͔̮͇̹̮h͕̻̣t̻͕̫̟̘͔ ̢y̕as̝̝ ̖̠̟s͍̮̬͎͖y̤̻̭a̲̭͚w̠͟l̷̺̲͕͎͍̝ͅa͎͈̟̗̳̪̣ ̸̝̞y̲͕̝eh̷͓̜̬̩̼̹̦t͏ ͙͖͚̳ ̰—̺͔̳̮

)e͏͇͖t͏͖̬a̡͕͚̯̣̤f͍̥͎̞͉ ̠̯r̬̫̘͙͕̹̫i͎̘̟e̙̼͘ͅh̝̭t͎͙͖̫ wo̺͈͕n̹̙̣k̼̗̼͉̭ ̵̙̦͔͇t̝͔’̘n̠̟͎͇̦o̢͎̮̝d̦̫̦̘̜̪͚ ̯y҉̼͇̜̙̲e̩̝̳̰̮h̪̻̹ṯ͖̹̣͙̲ ͉̤͘-̸t̢̼̱͕̩̠͉̙s̪̱͉o̠̬̣l̕ ̞͚̥̻̱͉,̶͙̯͎y͚͖̩̳͕̟̩l̬͕̦̘̠l͓͓͚ą̠̯e̖̲̯̰̞̟r̵̫̙̜̞(̥̦̮̣̰͉̳—̟̭̝͇ ҉̳̹ ̨̘͇̗̯̮

eṇ̠o̟̕ ̸̳̻̼d̗̹̯͓͡e̷̮͕v͎̝̠͔͇o̙l̯̗̬ ̝͚̳̱̱͢a͓̝͎̰͙̥͇ ͓̹̲͎̰T̰̻͍̩̗̱͙S͏̟͙̪̥̖͚̮O͔̰̪̮̰̲̫L ̴̪̯̰͖̤̼t̰͝ͅs̰̱̻͉̯̱͎͜u̵̹j̬̞͡ ̼̜̠̳e̻͖̹v͇̩͕͙̭̮̗a̖͢h̗͍̬̱ ̢t̬͎̱̘̞̮a̹͍͇̬̲͡hṯ͕̗͜ͅͅ ͎̜͜s̭̗͔̯̼e̬̳i̱̞͟l̤̩̙̺̣̩͠im͏̦͙̱̼͚af̘̲͔̱̰͍ h̴̭͙͎͔̟t̸̹̖͉̰̹i͈͇͎͕w̝͇ ̰̬̼̹̼s̶̟̠̬w͟ḙ̴̯͚̞̫͖͖i̟̕v҉̲͖̥͉͖r̵͙͇̻̺e̱̜t̢̲̗n̗̤͔̟̻̠i̭͖̯͈̗͡ ͕̱͎d͏̬̙̥̩a͉̬s͍̪ ̦̦͡e̡͖̹s̪͇̝̬̜o̸̜̮̳̠͎̞͇h̫̫̯̬̦͟ͅͅt̮͞ ̘̟͖̦͓͠f͙̰̘̝͚̜̮o͍͇͚̝̬̘̥͡ ̫̼̞̭͡l̦̲̤l͏A̜̪͚̠̠͢ͅ ͚̭͚̗͙͕͈͟ ̰̰̩̙ͅ.͞

e̳̻̖s̲̲̺ro̰͖̝w ̟̝͎̫̰̦r̩͟ͅo̶͍̺̥͕͖ ͈͇̬͝r̺̜̝̞e̖̭̣̺͉̖t̫̙̞̠͎͙te̙͘b͎ ̭͓̤͕̹̝s͖̜͈̻̗̫̲͝i̱͟h͍̥̩̠̹̳̲̕t͖̣̺̟̜ͅ ͈̕ȩ̲̼̣͉̹k̷̝̖̜͈a͎͚͈̹̺͡ͅm͎ ̛͚̲̝͖̬d͏̺̰͙̝̫̝ḻ̰͔͓̘͘ṵ͇̜͚͕͎o̷̲̼̲ͅw̗ u̥o̥̱̩̟̹ͅy̭ ҉̬̘̫̲͎g͜n̠̭̘̳͔͕i͏̥ḻ̡͚̳̳̘͔l̢͍̼̯̠̼e̦͎̪̖̗͟t̛͚̻͚͚ ̜͇͕̼r̸̭̬̬̠̖̮e͎̣̞͓͖͚̘h̥̣̙͔̝̺͟te̲̯̼̮̮̙̮hw̵̞̯̖̠͍ ̗̱̩̪̫͈̩ ͎͖̜ w͏̣͖̬͔̞o҉n̸͔͓̘̲̲̙k̲͍̣ ̘͚̥̯to͖͉͖n̼̤͔͚ ̛̹̺o̧̠̪̖d ̘̹͈̬͠I̪̹̼̫ ̭̲̬ͅ

d̫͕̪̜̙n͇̭̳͚̘͠a̘̗͔̬̩ ̢͔̝͎̫ͅw͇͉͈͜o̰͓̲̟n̡̰̣̗̮͔ ̷̳̖̪͓͉̲s̯̼̹̺̲͢ͅg̳n̫̯̲̳̘i̵͙̗̩h̟͇̥͇͍͉͕͜t̠̟̖ ͍yna̮̺̥̙̹͔͈͡m̱͍̮͇͓̦̯ ̤̲̖̩̠̘͟d͍̝ḙ̞̩̘̠̭̩n͖̜̖̩̩͡r̠̻͍̳̣͡ạel̝̩̖̼ ̡̹͉e̸͕̬̙̠̜͚v̤̪̪ͅa̤̲̫̙͍͈h͍͈̘͔̮ͅ I̘͎̺̤͔̘͡


	7. Zürich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Otabek is to believe Chris, then it would seem that there was truly nothing out of the ordinary going on with Yuri before he disappeared- minus the strange photos and writings he'd uncovered with JJ, which Chris admits are cause for concern. Yuuri Katsuki, however, tells Otabek that he has a different picture about the way things were going for Yuri leading up to the day that he disappeared.
> 
> It's not a pretty picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _I... do not have words for all of the emotions that I cycled through yesterday and today._  
>  **
> 
> **_I finished this chapter yesterday in the wee hours of the morning and went to bed, thinking I would post it when I woke up._**
> 
> **_As you might be able to see, that is not what happened._**
> 
> **_I think what has been the hardest for me to wrap my head around is that as I finished this chapter, Denis Ten was alive and well, maybe happy even. And when I woke, he was gone. In a matter of hours, the world lost such a bright, beautiful soul- over what? Car mirrors?_**
> 
> **_But you cannot measure loss in monetary value. Even for all of the gold in the world, to kill such a kind and inspiring person is senseless. Cruel._**
> 
> **_The only solace I have found in today comes in two parts:_**
> 
> **_Part 1: If it seems a soul has been taken from this Earth before their time, it was simply because they were too good and too radiant to walk among us any longer- they have gained access to a far better place than here._**
> 
> **_Part 2: If we simply remember the dead, then we present them with the gift of eternal life._**
> 
> **_So here's to Denis Ten, the man who inspired Otabek Altin, the hero of this story: Whenever I write this, Denis, I will think of you, and I will wish you all of the love and goodness that the world was too stingy to give you any longer. And in the better place you've gone and in these words, may your legacy live on forever._**

* * *

 

 

Zürich felt like a calm, beautiful liminal space compared to the frantic mess of _what ifs_ and worst case scenarios in Otabek’s mind.

 

Given the time of night he made it in, the airport was pleasantly quiet. A dull chatter from people coming and going traveled through the space, but whenever Otabek thought too hard about Yuri it’s like there was no other sound at all.

 

Lucky for him, though, Chris was keeping an eye out for the Kazakh skater so that Otabek didn’t have a chance to walk right by him and get lost while he was so deep in thought.

 

“Otabek!” The Swiss man called gently, and Otabek turned around with a start.

 

“Hi Chris- I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. Thank you so much for having me here, I just haven’t slept well recently so I guess I’m a bit... out of it.” Otabek managed.

 

Chris just smiled, patted him on the shoulder, and pulled out his car keys.

 

“Hey, it’s no problem. It seems like it’s been a long week for everyone.” The blonde commented, and with that he waved for Otabek to follow him back to his car.

 

The ride back to Chris’s home was quite peaceful- lights from the city lit their way, punctuated with the occasional green space. They made small talk as they drove- about next season’s locations, good hotels and restaurants they’d visited, and although Otabek wanted nothing more than to find Yuri there was admittedly something nice about having that sense of normalcy for a moment.

 

They made it back to Chris’s place, and Otabek noted that it was incredibly well decorated. It reminded them of those home shows that he occasionally watched on TV, and the Kazakh man wondered if maybe interior decorating was a hobby of Chris’s.

 

But there was no more time for that speculation, Otabek reminded himself. He needed to find Yuri. He needed to know _everything,_ everything that had maybe been held back from him previously, and he needed to know it now. The more time Yuri was unaccounted for, the more worried Otabek got that something really, truly terrible had happened—

 

“Come, sit.” Chris invited Otabek to the couch, once he’d set out some coffee cups and a cheese tray. Otabek kind of wondered where Chris had found the time to do this, but then again— with him being so wrapped up in his own thoughts, maybe more time had passed than he’d known.

 

“Thank you.” Otabek nodded, setting his backpack down at his feet and taking one of the coffee cups. Admittedly, he was rather fatigued- he probably needed this more than he knew.

 

“JJ said you were looking for Yuri?” Chris started off, and Otabek nodded.

 

“He... he went missing recently, and I’m kind of concerned that maybe not everyone is being as... honest about things as we need to be to find him.” The Kazakh explained, and Chris nodded.

 

“They see each other as family at that rink, but admittedly... well, all families have their issues. And they don’t always talk about them.”

 

Otabek nodded, anxiously waiting now, and Chris continued.

 

“I do know that they love Yuri, dearly. But enough to actually address what he’s dealing with? Well, that might be another story.” Chris sighed.

 

“What is he dealing with?” Otabek asked, and Chris took a sip of coffee before answering.

 

“We all have our demons.” The Swiss man started, and Otabek found it to be an... odd choice of wording, at best.

 

“Did Yuri ever say what he was... dealing with?” The Kazakh man asked as he took a sip of coffee now, and Chris shook his head.

 

“I don’t think Yuri knew what he was struggling with, but it was quite clear.” Chris started off. “I mean, he’s been a perfectionist since he was a child. He’s just terrified of not being perfect. Of course the problem here is that coaches see that as _drive_ , so even if it was hurting him I highly doubt they would do anything unless things got really bad. I mean, even when Victor finally broke one off-season no one ever talked about it, not really, they kind of just had him see a specialist once a week when things got that bad and then pulled him out of it as soon as he seemed stable so no one would... gossip, I guess.”

 

Otabek raised a brow now. This was going an entirely different direction than it had been previously, and he decided before he put any ideas in Chris’s head he would try to learn more.

 

“So you’re saying if this... had to do with mental health, it would be hard for Yuri to get help?”

 

“I mean, I’m sure they would get him to it if he asked, but it’s doubtful that he would ever ask. Yuri pushes himself, and that’s kind of the mentality that they cultivate in their skaters. Like “just push through”, you know?”

 

“Even if Yuri was seeing things?” Otabek asked quietly, and he had meant to save that for later but it just seemed appropriate to ask now.

 

“Seeing things? I mean I’m sure at that point they would have been worried, but Yuri has never... expressed that that’s an issue he’s had.”

 

“I’m confused.” Otabek admitted. “I thought you meant that he wouldn’t want to admit that he was struggling with anything like that when you said he was afraid of not being perfect.”

 

Chris took a cheese slice and then offered one to Otabek as he continued.

 

“Not quite.” Chris started to clarify. “I mean, this is probably a conversation that you should let Yuri have with you when you find him, but...”

 

_When._ Thank god _someone_ believed that he would.

 

Chris continued.

 

“I mean, he has anxiety. People think that he’s angry a lot of the time, but he’s actually just very afraid of the world around him. He’s afraid of failure, he’s afraid of the way that the world will see him, he’s afraid of the way that the people he’s closest to will see him. It’s actually quite common, I mean for people with anxiety disorders to be perceived as needlessly aggressive. In Yuri’s mind, he’s just constantly trying to avoid a disaster and he’s quite stressed about it. But that doesn’t mean he’s delusional, not by any stretch of the imagination. But... I mean, do you know something I don’t?”

 

The Swiss man paused now, waiting for Otabek to respond, and Otabek took another sip of coffee.

 

“I guess that’s what I’m trying to piece together. I mean... he said he was being watched, before he went missing.”

 

Chris furrowed his brow.

 

“Concerning. It’s unlike Yuri to make up tall tales, which means he was probably genuinely worried about something. I mean, even when he was a child he would always be working at jumps that were far above his level while the other children were playing “crack the whip” and other such games. He’s not prone to whimsy or speculation.”

 

“Do you think, maybe, that means someone was really following him then? Even with his mother...” Otabek trailed off.

 

Chris sighed.

 

“I know that will muddle a lot of things for people, but make no mistake- from what Victor said and from what I’ve heard elsewhere, what happened with Yuri’s mom right before she left him was highly unusual. I mean, people knew her to be moody- she probably had anxiety similar to the way that Yuri does. But she had never exhibited behavior quite that erratic before that point in her life, and I don’t mean to be the devil’s advocate but... I mean. I’m sure the part about Yuri not being Yuri or whatever she was going around telling people probably isn’t true... probably...”

 

The Swiss man paused, as if not totally convinced, and then continued.

 

“I mean could it have been the postpartum depression, perhaps? A misunderstanding of some sort? But anyway, I don’t think it’s unlikely that a beautiful socialite would be stalked, and combined with the depression it was probably completely overwhelming for her. And I don’t think it’s unlikely that a famous, beautiful skater with anxiety could have the same problem.”

 

Otabek nodded a little, and somehow things were starting to make an unsettling amount of sense again.

 

He ended up taking out both his phone with the Instagram post and Yuri’s notebook to show to Chris. A very, eerie silence settled around them as the Swiss skater examined the two items.

 

“... I think we should very seriously consider that someone was watching him.” Chris finally said after looking, and Otabek’s heart sank but at least they were on the same page.

 

“But who?” Otabek finally asked. “I mean, I was wondering if it was his mom, but could it be... I mean, do you think the person who was watching his mom is watching Yuri?”

 

Chris’s television came on with a loud start. Screeching, garbled static dominated the screen, and both men jumped at the sight and the sound.

 

It had to just be an odd coincidence. It _had_ to be, they both thought, and yet both of them remained still, completely transfixed on the screen as the static danced across it and the garbled sound continued and if Otabek looked too closely, he could almost see what looked like two hollow eye sockets and a mouth—

 

The T.V. clicked off almost as quickly as it had turned on. The two men looked at each other.

 

“I’ll... have to get that looked at.” Chris broke the silence.

 

“Does this happen often?” Otabek asked.

 

“No. Never.” The Swiss man answered, and they both felt a chill.

 

Neither of them had the heart to say anything, and yet they both wondered- was Yuri’s mother really as out of her mind as they all thought, with her speculations?

 

“... You know what I think we should do?” Chris asked, and Otabek shook his head.

 

“I know you weren’t sure about it, but I think maybe... we should go talk to Victor. I mean... I know it upset you that he wasn’t as forthcoming as he could be initially, but that’s how they raise them in that rink. And I’m sure he could shed some more light on the situation. Maybe he saw something in the days leading up to it that we missed.” Chris suggested, and while Otabek may have been reluctant to do that only an hour ago he had to admit he would be grateful for the opportunity to go elsewhere after... that.

 

“You know what? Sure. That... might be good.” Otabek agreed, and with that they both packed back up their things with a rush and started out the door again.

 

* * *

 

They took the first plane back to Russia that they could catch.

 

Admittedly they’d arrived rather early, and so they ended up sitting in a cafe near the rink for a few hours before Victor finally returned Chris’s text and agreed to meet them.

 

While Chris and Otabek waited for Victor to show up, they exchanged more notes on Yuri, before he disappeared.

 

“So you’re saying that as recently as the GPF he seemed... fine?” Otabek asked, and Chris shrugged.

 

“Fine as he could be.” The blonde commented. “I mean, he was worried about his grandfather, and it was pretty obvious that he was kind of worried about Mila cozying up to you—.”

 

“What?” Otabek almost laughed a little, quite a bit startled. “When on earth did that happen?”

 

“You know, at the banquet. You two had spent some time talking together. She’d asked you to dance, and then Yuri told you he needed help finding his room key card that he’d ‘dropped’.” Chris winked, and Otabek raised a brow.

 

“He... he thought something was happening there? How? Mila is just an acquaintance and Yuri... is everything, to me.” The Kazakh’s voice softened, and Chris smiled.

 

“He’s quite smitten with you, you know. Enough to throw his own room key card in the lobby fountain to keep you to himself.”

 

Otabek blushed a little, remembering the little peck on the cheek Yuri gave him for finding the then waterlogged key and helping him get a new one. They ended up not returning to the party and going for a swim after that because Yuri claimed his head hurt from the noise and the heat of the room. The swam together a while, and then they ended up ordering room service snacks after and falling asleep on Yuri’s bed together to some late night programming.

 

It was a fond memory for Otabek- somehow now it made his heart ache a little, considering what Yuri seemed to think of the situation. All the same, he couldn’t say he didn’t like the way that Yuri had fussed over him to keep the Kazakh to himself. It made him think maybe Yuri, too, might feel the way about him that Otabek felt- was still feeling- about Yuri.

 

And it made him miss the petite blonde dreadfully more.

 

“How about from your end?” Chris asked, on his third coffee. “Did anything seem wrong?”

 

Otabek shook his head.

 

“He was so happy. We finally got together, we were going to move in together; he was really excited about that. He was looking at all of these different places near the rink, and we had a few we really liked, and... I mean, if he wasn’t sure about it he didn’t make it obvious.” Otabek’s voice fell at the end, the possibility of Yuri _not_ wanting him anymore stinging deeply.

 

Chris shook his head now.

 

“I’m sure it wasn’t you. He’s wanted this for a long time; you could always see that in his face and in the way he looks at you. How were things with his grandfather?”

 

“He’s... getting older. Yuri found him a nice assisted living community to live in. He seems to be enjoying it, but of course Yuri is worried about him.”

 

“But they’re getting along?” The Swiss man asked, and Otabek nodded, slowly raising his brows as he did.

 

“Oh, always. His grandfather raised him, didn’t he?”

 

“He did, and Yuri does love him dearly.” Chris confirmed. “It’s just when he was younger I’d see Yuri get frustrated when his Grandfather started talking about old folk tales.”

 

Otabek paused. He half wondered if maybe... maybe that was where Yuri’s mother had got in in her head that supernatural beings took her baby.

 

“What kind of folktales?” Otabek asked, and Chris hummed.

 

“Well, we will probably have to ask Victor for more details. There’s all of these Russian names that I can’t remember. But I know when Yuri was young his grandfather used to collect and leave these offerings of some sort in their home. He said they were supposed to keep he and Yuri safe. Yuri didn’t like it because the other kids kind of poked fun at him for it, but his grandfather was very insistent about it.”

 

Otabek nodded, slowly, taking in the information. He wondered if this could have any basis in reality. Did Yuri’s grandfather know something- or someone- that the rest of them didn’t? Had things gone sour between he and whoever these offerings were for?

 

Did that even make any logical sense?

 

Before he could think any further, Victor arrived- fiancé in tow, as usual.

 

“I’m so sorry we couldn’t be here sooner!” Victor apologized, taking a seat at the table with them. “I had no idea you were both coming, and so early at that.”

 

“It’s not a problem. We didn’t tell you ahead of time, it just... became very necessary.” Chris settled on as an explanation, and while Victor raised a brow he did not ask any more questions. He shifted his gaze to the Kazakh then, smiling awkwardly.

 

They’d left off on a strange note together, Victor and Otabek, and Yuuri gently nudged Victor as an awkward silence sat between them.

 

“Um... sorry for not... starting this sooner.” Victor apologized, looking down at the corner of the cafe floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

 

“... Sorry for hanging up on you and refusing to answer any more phone calls.” Otabek mumbled sheepishly, and Victor laughed a little finally.

 

“I’ve done worse things to better people.” Victor admitted easily, and Chris smiled now too- only a little softer.

 

“That you have.” The Swiss man agreed quietly, and before things could get any heavier Yuuri Katsuki saved the moment.

 

“So, Otabek- what was it that you wanted to ask about?” The Japanese man asked, and Otabek tried to collect his thoughts.

 

“Um... I guess two things.” He started. “First I wanted to know if there was anything else you noticed leading up to the days that Yuri went missing. Then... I guess I want to know more about the folk tales Yuri’s grandfather used to talk about.”

 

“Oh, those old things?” Victor inquired, wrinkling his nose a little. “I mean, those are mostly beliefs that mostly rural families still keep. I can certainly tell you about them, but... well, I don’t see why they would help at a time like this.”

 

“I’m just wondering if... I mean, maybe if they effected Yuri’s thinking some way.” Otabek explained, and Victor hummed.

 

“Well... the one that Yuri’s grandfather refers to the most is the domovoy. If you believe in that kind of stuff, you wouldn’t be afraid of the domovoy. He’s like a friendly little household helper; he tidies up around the house and watches it while everyone sleeps. Additionally, they say that the domovoy is supposed to help the family avoid misfortune and bring great luck. In return, he just wants a place to stay, like your house, and some good food to eat.” Victor takes a bite of the croissant he bought finally after watching Yuuri start into his own, and then continues.

 

“I remember Yuri’s grandfather would always bring some fresh bread from the local bakery back for the domovoy when he visited. Yuri used to get so mad when he would start talking about it in front of us,” Victor chuckled, “but it was very sweet actually. It was just his way of making sure all was well with the world.”

 

“That... sounds pleasant.” Otabek admitted, and Victor nodded.

 

“It’s an antiquated belief, but not a terrible one. And if the domovoy is unhappy, I think it just leaves. So I can’t imagine Yuri would have been worried about that, even if he had started to believe it.”

 

“So what happens once the domovoy leaves?” Otabek asks, and Victor chews his lip and thinks a moment.

 

“From what I remember, the domovoy doesn’t do anything to actively hurt you. He just goes and finds another family to help. It does mean, though, that anything the domovoy was keeping out...can come in.” Victor finishes, and the Kazakh skater frowns.

 

“What else would come in?” Otabek asks, and the tall, silver haired skater finally takes a sip of the coffee he ordered before continuing.

 

“If you believe the old legends, then fairies. But like, bad fairies. Demons, ghosts- you name it. It can come.”

 

The similarities between that and what Yuri’s mother had said chilled Otabek to the bone.

 

“But Yuri never believed in all of that.” Victor insisted, “and the last I’d heard, his grandfather was still baking bread for the domovoy even in his new place. So that angle just doesn’t add up- well that, and it’s just not believable to begin with.”

 

Otabek knows he needs to believe that- Victor is absolutely right, it would be ridiculous to think otherwise- but he just can’t help the lingering feeling that this is somehow important.

 

“But to answer your first question,” the older Russian picks up, “I wish I had more to tell you about the day before he went missing. I really do. But you have to understand that you see a different side of Yuri than we all do. He’s peaceful when he’s with you. But he’s almost always frowning or tired or in a mood when we see him in the morning, so not much seemed off to us. We were just worried that maybe he was more fatigued than usual and would hurt himself if he continued with his jumps.”

 

Otabek searched the man’s face for more answers, but he couldn’t make out what he was seeing. Yuuri ate his pastry quietly, but finally spoke up as he finished.

 

“Um. You know, I didn’t think about this because it wasn’t from when Yuri disappeared but... we had kind of a strange conversation, a while back.”

 

“Oh?” Otabek asked, and Yuuri nodded.

 

“I didn’t think it was any of my business to share at the time but... maybe it will help.” He started. “He was telling me about this visit he had with his grandfather. His grandfather... is kind of strange about the ‘Russian Fairy’ nickname. He was complaining about this interview that Yuri gave being titled ‘A Chat with the Russian Fairy’ or something like that.”

 

The Japanese man paused, took a couple sips of coffee, and tried to collect his thoughts before he continued. Victor, Chris, and Otabek all kept their eyes trained on him, anxiously waiting to know where this would lead.

 

“Yuri was all worried that it was because his grandfather was upset that he wasn’t more masculine, but when he tried to ask his grandpa if he would have rather Yuri taken up more of a man’s sport he said that it wasn’t that at all. And he was proud of Yuri, he was just... gosh. I’m... trying to remember how he put it. He said something to the effect of he was worried that _they_ would recognize Yuri and come back for him.”

 

This... could go many places. And Otabek wasn’t sure if he was ready for what he would hear, but he needed to hear it if he was going to find Yuri.

 

“They?” Otabek asked quietly, and Yuuri nodded.

 

“Yuri said this is where things got weird. He tried to ask his grandpa if he meant his mom and dad, but then his grandfather said... um... well.”

 

The Japanese man fumbled a little, but then continued.

 

“... he said that whoever was following his mother might hear and come for him. A-and Yuri said he was just worried that his grandfather was getting older and maybe his memory isn’t what it used to be, because as far as he knew his mom just had some sort of breakdown and left but... it kind of scared him that his grandpa really thought someone was after him. Or that... someone really was after his mom, and was coming back for him.”

 

Otabek was sick to his stomach.

 

“But his grandfather had never said anyone like that existed before, and so we ended up just talking about some ways to support family members who are dealing with memory issues—”

 

“I need to talk to him.” Otabek cut Yuuri off, and Victor nodded in agreement.

 

“Yes. Just... yes. Yuuri, thank you for speaking up. Even if his memory is going maybe... maybe he knows something. We just need to decipher what it means for Yuri.” Victor agreed.

 

The four men sat in silence for a moment, and then Victor continued.

 

“Well... he knows me, and he knows Otabek. I suppose it really needs to be one of us who talks with him.”

 

“I’ve visited recently, and I want to hear the words from him myself. But you can come, if... if there’s anything you think you can help with.” The Kazakh added, glancing at Victor, and Victor shook his head.

 

“He... might be more inclined to share more with you. Rural families don’t always like to talk to those of us who are from this city about their beliefs because they know a lot of us don’t take it that seriously. And we just... we need everything he remembers. Even if some of his memories are about folklore. But we can’t decide what’s important or not until we know all of it.” Victor reasoned.

 

“How about we take you there, though?” Yuuri asks. “Because then if you need us, we’ll at least be nearby. And if he remembers anything, we can act on it faster.”

 

Otabek nods. He’s glad now that he returned to St. Petersburg— Yuuri at least seems very invested in finding Yuri, even enough to share something with him that he hadn’t shared with his own fiancé previously.

 

Hopefully he could trust them going forward, he thought, as they started making arrangements for the trip back to Moscow.


	8. resolc era uoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> e͕͟m̰̖ ̵̟͎͍̗ͅͅe͖̻v̢͓̞͇͎̻͖̻ol̛̪̱ ̧̭͔̱̜̪̣̝y͖̳͔͇̤͠l̞̤͔͍͖͔b̘i̷s̺s͎̟͚o̱͎̘͙͙p͖̳ ͏̞̳̹̻̩ͅu̹͈̱͈͙̞͘o̡̭̟̳y҉ d̩l̟͠ṵ̗͙͎ọ͈͈c ̳̪͜w̴̤̮̗̱̼͉o̼͍̯̬̤͓ͅh̵͔̭̼

* * *

͙̺͕̠̭̜ .͞e͍̰̝̕e̶̺̟̺s  ̜̪d̛̞̥̳̪̼̦l̸u̻̮͔̟͕o̡c͖͈̗͍̥̠   u̬̯͝o̭͉͍̺͕y̱̫̣̜̤̳ͅ ̪͈͚̦͈̦f̦̟̯͕͔į͍͎̼̫̮̪̩̜̱͍͝ e͕͟m̰̖ ̵̟͎͍̗ͅͅe͖̻v̢͓̞͇͎̻͖̻ol̛̪̱ ̧̭͔̱̜̪̣̝y͖̳͔͇̤͠l̞̤͔͍͖͔b̘i̷s̺s͎̟͚o̱͎̘͙͙p͖̳ ͏̞̳̹̻̩ͅu̹͈̱͈͙̞͘o̡̭̟̳y҉   d̩l̟͠ṵ̗͙͎ọ͈͈c ̳̪͜w̴̤̮̗̱̼͉o̼͍̯̬̤͓ͅh̵͔̭̼ ̜͙͔̱d̻̹n̴͎̬̦̮̬̬̤A͎̯̰̝̰̹̥̪̯̬̱̩͕̬̣̫̞̫͘ ̞̮̩͕͈̹̹̕

.̨̘̯͎eb̡͖̤̗  y̺̩͘l̖͖ͅbi͙̰s̭̝̪̯̱̲̱̕s̖͙o̘͙̜̲̥p ̗̺  r̗̞̘͎̘̪̺e̟̦ģ̗̫̗̳n͉̣̗o̱̭͖͇͡l̢̦̻̞͉ ̧͚̜̩̳̩o̢̘͕͙n͚͔ ̰̤n͈̗͔̳̗̪̙͠a̰ͅͅc͎̱̹͖̥͝ ̠̙̖̝̮̗͢I̱̹̤͘ ̸͚̰̝̼t͈̱͖̗̠a̳h҉͚̘̭͔̙͚̱t͡  g̗ni̵̠͎͈̲̩h̡̳͔̱ͅt͔̱͢e̘̻̘͝m̗̥̯̬͇o̞̮s̘̝̟ ̞̰̣ͅs̥i҉̳ ̣̬̣͖l̟̳̭̰̘̪͝u͇͔͘f͏̤̥̻ͅit͔̺u͔̮̬͎a͓̲͍e̟̲͉b̜̯̙͚̫͍ ̭̦͓̜̹w̷͕o҉͙ṋ̡̜͔ ̥͇͈͚̠̳͚e̗͇͇̝̲͔s̵̝̼̩ͅu̜͚͡a̶̦̺̤̫c̰̭̪e̞ͅb͈̹̜̱̪͖

.y̱̪̬̥͟r͉͕ͅo̹̯̠͢m̩̜̺̜͠e͍̮̟̝̱̥̝m̸̠̘ ͉͇͓͎͕r̷u̸͉o̯͓͚y̪̣̼̕ ̟̲͔͎͈͓n̳͠i̟͚͎̝̹ ̱̖͘lu̠̦̩̙̯f͈͇̲͠i̮̰͔t͏̻̤̙u̝̟͓͔̪̥ͅa̫̜̞e̢̳͔͓̹̪̯ͅb͏̭̙̯̬͍ͅ ̬̘ỵl̶͙̮̖̯̪͈l̲̪̙̱̹̤ͅạ̬n͙͚̤̞͡r̛̩e҉t̗͕͍̕e̞͓̱̝̜͓̱

t̬̱̟͠r̡͍̬͕̗̱̗̤a̭̤̤͇͈ͅe̗̞͖̼̬̯h̠͚̦͉̖͇ ̯̠̤͝ͅr͔̬̪̖̖̱ṵ̻͉̙o̹̪͍͎̘ͅy̤ ̳̤̳f̼͠o̟̩̭ ̥̮ d̬̰͖͇͙ͅl̗̬̮̬̳o̬̻̣̙͕͞h̝͖͉̟̖͉ ̠̥̩͍̰͕͚̕g̸͔̲ṉ̜̯i̜͓̤̹̺p̗͔̥e̻͚̝e̷̼̳̹̜̹͓k  ͍y҉̭̖̦̬̱ͅl̳̱̫̯͢l̲̯̗̟̪̱̖e̱͚̪͎̣̰u͘ṟ̴͓̯̮c҉̛̠͉̻̜̬͙̩̹̳̮̗̬͍͈

͎̗̖̻̪ͅl̰͎͍̬͘u̦̩f̻̲i̥̬̯t̠̤̠͇͔͠ͅu̥̗̩̱̹̱̖̕a͙͞e̤͈͓b ̴̤̖̯̫t̥̦̲u͘b̭̞̳͈͡ ̸͉̭͔͓͚l͖̰e͏͈͕̪̪͚u͓͍rc͇̗̝͙͝ ̣̗e̳͕͚̜̰͝b͏͉̲̮ ̩̰͡r̴̝̮̫̬̳̳e̪̲h͉t̡̬̖̖a̤̩r͈͖͔͔̤͠ ͎͕̤̳͜d͎͎’͉͖̪̜I͈̥̲̭̟̪̠͟ ̵͈̘̱̮̲̮e̟̣͖͉̻b͎̰y̦a҉̱̯̮̱̬M̷̼̫͇̜͚̺̤̭

̶͍͖̖̫̰̙̺.̩̬̖̺̼̼ḙ͖̼̲e͔͓͞r͖̗̦͚͈͕f̨̱̹̲ ̝̰u͙̮̼͉̠͍̤͟oy̵̳̹͇̱̯̙ ̠͔͖̗̹ț̴̦e͎̯s̟̥̱̮̠̯ͅ ̻̭̹̠͜oT͓͎̠̭̯͚͕҉̪̞̟̗̻̬̹͍ͅ

,͇͈̩̜̰ẹ̮̱͖͎e̼͔̤̱̠̲͕s̢̬̺ ̜̜̪u̜̩oy͈̰̯̣͎̘͈ ̘̙̕t̢͇e̶̻̪̩̠Ļ̵͈͇̥̙̣͉͖̻̦̤̩̘̫͚ͅ

,̭̖̲k҉̘oo̳̜̣͓͙͓ͅļ̥̠͎ ͚̱͉u͍̝̰̭̝o̠̟y̩̤͔͢ ̵̮͉͙̬ț̞͔̩̘͇el ̺o̵t ̪̱̠̳̯e͙̳̬͢m̧ ̵̻͈f̰̙̳͉o̰͇̭̞̗ ̹͜r̦̺͍͕͍e͚̹̰̫͎̝ͅd͏̹͙̥̟n͟ik͈͈̻͍̜̰ ̨̣e̘b̪̟͉̣ ̣̰̙͇͡ţ̘̞̤͓̠ͅị̦̱ͅ ̢d̮̰̱͎l̺͔͔͎̮͡u͖̲͓̞̟o̵̳͖w̩ ̶̙͍̮r̡͔̫̮͚͍̤O̴̷̱̟̮̪̭̟̖̠̦̺̬̰̳͚̲̟̮̱

,̭e͠cn̟͠o̡̻̜̰͙̰ ̶͇̬̞̯̫͍ͅd͏̟̤̱e̶̝̟̳͕v͕̭o̵̦͈̭̥͓̗̭l̛ ̳u̱o̩̦y͓̖͟ ̧͉y̹͉o̮̟̞͙̙b̺̗̭̙ ̛ l̦͕͚̠̳͉͘u̳f̛͙͚i͓̥̘̰̼t̝̥̦̞u̪̠ͅa̛͍̜̗̥̙͔͚e̠͟b͕͚̯̠̥̟͙͡ ̨̩͚̩͓̖̯e̲͍h̷͈͖̩͚t̶͖͍̬͔ͅ ͏͙̝͎̝s̛̪̭̥a̙͖̦ ҉͈̥͖̰ . ỵ̷r̶o͈͝m̨͈̭̗̩e͎͖̖͓̣̱m̘̻̼͙ ̸r͔̯̱͉͖u̻̦̥̤̟ơ̱͕͖̭y̹̥̞̹̺̦̯ ̤n̩̭̮̣̪ͅi͎̱̼ ̰̬̗͔͓̼͈no͔ ҉̭͕  e̦̪̣̥͟v͍͎̝̟͕͔ị̴͍̙l͖̺  ot̺̮̩̤̟͖ ͕̭e̙̞̙̬̰͖m̤̜̭ ̵̬̮͖̟ͅr͎̩̹͖̬͖ǫ͈̟̥͎̟f͢

̱̻̲͡-̼̦͓̬t͓͓̲̟̤ͅȩ͔̗̳͎͚̯e̷̪̦̯̰͕̬̟ws̜ŗ͎͓͓e̦̥̝̮͡ͅt̴̫̞̺̭t̵͚͎̜͓i̤͞b̻͉͚ ̮̳̬̬̺ e̟̞b̤̼̮̗̱̣̮y͡a̮͉̙m͚̹̫ ͍̗̜

-͎͎̻͉̭͝t̡͉̰͍e̪e̶̻͍̰̪̖͕̠w̸̜̥s̷̺͙̘̫ ̳̰̙͚͍͜ȩ͓̺̫̭̜b͉̻̣͇͕̗͎ ҉͉̩̫͖͖̙  t̹͜ͅị̹̗͖̖ͅ d͜l̛̯͎̼̰̯͙u̢̦̳ơ͙̯͇̲̦̞̺W̸͙̩̣̼̬̬̺̰̭͚͈͎̘͜ͅ

̱͚̩̭̫.̜̤̬͖͖͓͕̕m̛̘͎͖̪ͅạ̩͔̥͇̙ ̝̰̙̮̩ͅy̹̼͟l͔͎͓̥̰l̖̮͍̼͓͔̹a̖͖̪̲̻̻e̪r͔͈̯̟͜ ̶̩͈͖͙I͙͍̱ ̖̦̳̜̪̙t̞̫̜̮̟̥͈a̴̱̣̯h̵̰͍̤̘̯̝̺w̪͔̥͎̥̪ͅ ̳̯͙r͇oF̶͔̳͕̮̼͉͖̖͇̹̱͎̪͍̫͝

͇̤͎͈͢y̩̪̭̘̮̞͞t͍͖̤̥͍is̞̺̭̙̪͖o̱̮̫̦͕̘r̬͙̥̙̭̰t͖͔͙̯̫͔s̫̫no̳͇̼̥̹m̴̫̫̲ ̜͓̘̝͠a

e̷̜m̲̘͙͈̱ ̩̜̠̙̜̬ę̯̺͔̝̼͇ẹ͍s͞ ̼͙̞̰͡o̠̼̖͚̕t̛̲̼̞̱̭̪͙ ͙̯̟uo̶ͅy̜̟ ͍̥̻͍t̴̼na̛͍̪̺̘̺̬w̦̻̠̘ ̱I̤ f̢̜̫̼̹̝ͅi̠̱̰ ͍͕͉̬ẉ̢̖̥̺͕o̤͉̳̣͈̱ͅn̴͕k̥͉͈͙̥̘͙ ̸͉̫t͖̖̯̦ͅo͙̞̫̺̫͈n ̲̰ơ̯͉d̵̞̖̤̤ I̵̦̤͕̣̩̰̫͎̻͍͔͡ͅ

.͏̯͕̖̜͍͇͇e̶̤̮̥͈̟̰̳b̳̜ ̱̞o̢̙͍̦̰͙͈t̜̰̘ͅ ͕̹̪̦͚͎ṳ̗̪̦o̭̟̮̟̤͓y̦͉̼̫̩̗͇͝ ͉̪̰͇͙̮͔t̹̜͍͓͉͢n͕̬a̖̗w̷̘͓͎͚̻̜͕ ͢Ị̦̣ ͖̲̮͠f̻̱̝̙͉̘͜i̹̙̮͍̟̟ ̺̼w̡̖͓͉on̺͇k͟ ̮͓͙t̝͓̫o̮̱͉̣n͎ ̺̖ o̶̙̗̝̠͔̤d͚ ҉͍I̛̗̹͈͉̗͚ͅ͏ ̤̩t̲̱͓͠u̩̖̙̖̬̟̣b

ẹ̩͢ͅc̗̪͎̻̗n͚̗͚̰̬̙ad̮̦̥̤͓͖̘ ͇͙̱̟͞s̮̞̦̫̙̲ͅi̝̻̺h̙t̞̼̲̰̦̫ ͉ d̢̺͓e͈̤t̕r͏̩̯̱a̫̦͙t͕̬̟̰̤̱s̥̩̲̗̠̞ ͜e͚̣̰͉͕͚͞w͏̝̬̪ ̬e̘͞c̶̖̻̝̥ṇi̲̩̱͠s̩͇̹͢ ͡n͙̩e̸̜͓̹̫̫e͟b̷ ̙̹̮͚̪͘e̴̠v̨̗͈̭̻͓͙̻’̱̦̲̭̺̳̜u̮o̼͕͈͖̤y̧̼͓̮͓ ̯̣͖̰̝̕ṋ͎̤͉͝a̢̻̭h̘͔̯̮̠t̜̯̻̙̤ͅ

r̮̙̰̝e̱͡s̪̹̰o̸̞͚̻̹ͅl͝c ̰̦̞̼͈̻͚e͍r̬̠̣͍̗̺ͅa̜͍̰͇̦͙ ͇̼̲̪͍͚̩u̼̫̟̮̠̕ͅoY


	9. Moscow Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In the middle of the woods outside Moscow, in the dead of night, there is a circle of mushrooms._
> 
> _You might miss it all together if you hiked on by during the day. You might miss if all together if you weren’t led directly to it, and you would be lucky if you did._
> 
> _Otabek Altin was not that lucky. Otabek Altin was looking for Yuri Plisetsky, the love of his life, who had been missing for days now, and was led directly to the circle in his search._
> 
> _One moment, in this circle of mushrooms, Otabek laid still there._
> 
> _A moment later he was missing, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _((Hello again, friends._
> 
> _I wanted to thank you all for following along with our story thus far- writing this, for me, has been an incredible experience in so many ways. My love for mysteries and urban legends has been something that's followed me since childhood, and it means a lot that anyone was willing to entertain my attempt to join these genres that I love so dearly with my OTP (Otayuri, in case it wasn't obvious :P)._
> 
> _I hope that you've all been enjoying the ride thus far._
> 
> _You'll notice I changed the main description for this story to match this chapter- I'm trying this convention out to see if it piques anyone's interest (although just in case anyone is concerned, the original description lives on in my saved files). If you're so inclined and you're a new reader, please let me know what drew you in so that I know what I'm doing right with chapter summaries :P Despite having done a few at this point, I'm not sure I have the hang of it yet._
> 
> _As always- thank you so very much for taking the time to read, bookmark, leave kudos, and comment! These make my day more than you know (and help me get excited for future chapters, too).))_

* * *

 

 

As the group traveled back to Moscow, Otabek made a list of everything that he had learned about Yuri’s disappearance so far on the back of the map he’d set out with initially. It read:

 

  1. Yuri was sure he was being followed. 
    * He probably was. ( _See exhibit a, written note in sketchbook, and exhibit b, Instagram photo with unknown figure outside Yuri’s window._)


  * Unknown: Did Yuri leave with someone, or in an attempt to escape someone? ( _Either possibility made Otabek sick to his stomach._ )



 

  1. Yuri’s mother had also been sure she was being followed.


  * Unknown: Was she? Debatable. Not enough primary sources to confirm. 
    * Arguments that she _was_ being followed: the figure in her garage she wrote about in her journal, the fact that she was a well known celebrity of sorts. A stalker, perhaps?
    * Arguments that she _was not_ being followed: Perhaps some sort of nervous breakdown. Seems to think whatever was following her was inhuman, supernatural in nature.



 

An important caveat: the Plisetskys have a history of _anxiety_ disorders. There’s never any mention of a disorder that would cause hallucinations. Does this lend more credibility or less to these accounts?

 

  1. Yuri’s Grandfather is sure Yuri was being followed.


  * _Unknown: Why on earth would he think that, too, and does he know something that could blow this whole mystery wide open—_



That was all he had so far. He was eager to learn more, but also anxious. Once he heard what Yuri’s grandfather had to say, there would be no way to unhear it. _And what if it led to something far more disturbing than he was ready to know—_

 

But he owed this to Yuri. He’d _promised_ Yuri he would follow him anywhere, and if somewhere disturbing was where this took him... well, then so be it.

 

He was going to find Yuri and bring him home, dammit. This he was sure of.

 

_Or, he wanted to be sure of it, but this terrible, awful sense of doubt and dread kept creeping up inside of his throat—_

 

Focus, Altin. Focus. Bring Yuri home.

 

The trip seemed to go faster than it had last time, and this time Otabek was already signing into the visitor’s log at the assisted living community where Yuri’s grandfather lived.

 

He honestly barely remembered being in the airport this time. His traveling companions had to gently guide him out of the way of other travelers as the walked off the plane, back outside the airport.

 

From there, Victor, Yuuri, and Chris went on to check in at a nearby hotel. They’d offered to take Otabek’s bag if he wanted, but Otabek had opted to keep it on him. If he _did_ end up getting a very strong, very urgent lead from Yuri’s grandpa, he wouldn’t want to waste any time retrieving his things from a hotel room that wasn’t even really his.

 

And now here he was at the man’s door, nervously knocking.

 

He was startled when the man answered the door, despite the fact that he’d been waiting for the elderly Russian in the first place. Evidently fatigue was not being kind to the Kazakh man.

 

“Otabek- come on in and have something to eat; you look exhausted.” The older man commented.

 

Nikolai was fascinating to Otabek in that, despite sometimes coming across as gruff or abrupt, he was one of the most caring people that Otabek had ever met. Yuri had commented once that it was his grandfather who had taught him how to cook, actually, and he stressed that part of good hospitality was being able to provide for your guests.

 

“Thank you, sir.” Otabek replied, and Nikolai smiled kindly.

 

“Please, we should be past the formalities.” The grandfather commented, leading Otabek towards the table. The smell of fresh bread filled the room, and the soup on the stovetop mingled with it.

 

“I’m sorry to have interrupted dinner.” Otabek apologized, and Nikolai just shook his head.

 

“It is nice to have company. Especially in... times like these.” The man sighed.

 

Otabek nodded slowly, and the elder Russian man bought over a couple bowls of soup and began slicing the bread. Otabek couldn’t help but notice when the man set some aside, remembering Victor’s anecdote about the bakery bread from earlier.

 

“Thank you.” Otabek said once Nikolai had given him his share.

 

“You’re welcome.” Nikolai replied, and then took a few bites of his meal before speaking again.

 

“I appreciate how much time you’ve spent looking for Yurochka. I’d imagine your search has been very difficult.”

 

Otabek nodded, and Nikolai continued.

 

“You see, there are some things here that just haven’t been taken into account very well. The police seem to think that Yurochka just wants to be alone, that maybe he’s hiding somewhere in plain sight even, but... they’re clearly missing some very important details.”

 

“Such as?” Otabek asks, and Yuri’s grandfather eats some more soup. The silence hangs between them for a few minutes.

 

“What have you found so far? About the situation, I mean.” The elderly man asks, and Otabek is wondering how much information he should volunteer.

 

“I’ve... been told that Yuri was concerned that someone was following him. Someone... might have been.” Otabek adds, and Nikolai nods.

 

“And what do you believe?” The Russian asks. Otabek takes a bite of bread to decide his next move.

 

“... I’m sure he’s sure someone was following him.”

 

“And are you?”

 

“... I’m worried he might be right.” Otabek finally admits, quietly, and the grandfather nods.

 

“Good. You should be.” The elderly gentleman confirmed, and Otabek set the spoon he had been holding down.

 

“Who is following him?” Otabek finally asked, and Nikolai looked around the room, as if checking to see if the coast was clear. He stood, retrieved an old looking pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer, and then sat again.

 

Otabek wondered if he should be nervous, and he must have looked it.

 

“Don’t worry. They won’t come if we keep this close.” The man began. “I will see to it that we are not disturbed during this conversation.”

 

That did not do much to settle Otabek’s nerves, but he supposed he would have to settle the best he could for now. Even though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was settling for.

 

“...I see. Thank you.” He replied, and Nikolai sat back in his chair a little.

 

“Do you know the story about Yurochka’s mother? My daughter? Has he ever told you?”

 

“I’ve... heard bits and pieces of it, from him and from other people.” Otabek responded, because he really wanted to hear Nikolai’s interpretation of it, and Nikolai nodded.

 

“She was a smart girl. Beautiful, too. She knew how to use those two things together, and that was how she made a living for herself. Sad, that her degenerate boyfriend could not appreciate that.” The man started, and Otabek nodded to encourage him. “But she was going to be a wonderful mother. And if she had stayed, she would have been.”

 

“But she... she wasn’t around for Yuri’s childhood really, was she?”

 

Nikolai shook his head.

 

“No. I’m sure you’ve heard this part of the story.”

 

“I know what others who did not know her have told me.” Otabek explained, and Nikolai nodded.

 

“And I’m sure they all have their opinions?”

 

“Certainly. But... I want to know the real story. What you saw.” The Kazakh explained, and the elderly Russian smiled a little.

 

“You’re from the city, yes?” Nikolai asked.

 

“Almaty. Yes.” Otabek affirmed, and the other nodded.

 

“People in the city... no longer look at the world around them the same way that they once would have. If they can’t see it, they can’t believe it— would you agree?”

 

“Many people in the city, yes.” Otabek humored him. “But I’m open to new ideas.”

 

The Russian man looked him over, thinking for a long moment.

 

“You know... she _was_ being followed.” Nikolai finally offered.

 

“Yeah?” Otabek asked, eager to hear more, and Nikolai nodded.

 

“I... didn’t entirely understand it myself at first. I thought it was just nerves from being a new mother, but after she took off... I understood.”

 

“Was she trying to get away from them?” Otabek asked, and Nikolai shook his head.

 

“No. Quite the opposite at that point, actually. She was in pursuit of them.”

 

That... admittedly was not what Otabek had expected.

 

“Oh?” The Kazakh asked, and the older man nodded.

 

“Was she looking for Yuri, then? Did she think that they had him?” Otabek tried to clarify, and that at least made sense with what the Leroys had told him, and Nikolai hummed.

 

“Not the Yuri you know, no. But the baby that was taken? Yes. She _knew_ that they had him.”

 

Otabek... _really_ needed a moment to process that.

 

If he understood, then this meant... someone had been following Yuri’s mother, and someone had taken... her baby. But where did Yuri fit into all of this? Did they retrieve him? Or...

 

“I’m sorry.” Otabek started. “I don’t think I understand. You’re saying Yuri was... Yuri was taken?”

 

“Not the way you think.” Nikolai replied, taking another spoonful of soup. “Yuri, the Yuri that you are referring to, was _left_ , here with us. Yuri, the baby boy, one you’ve never known, was taken.”

 

“... Yuri’s mom... your daughter... was... correct that someone took her baby then?” Otabek said slowly, and although he said it aloud it didn’t make any more sense.

 

“Yes.” The Grandfather confirmed, and Otabek sighed deeply and took a few spoonfuls of soup before continuing his line of questioning.

 

“And you’re saying Yuri... Yurochka?” The elderly man nodded, and Otabek continued, “was left here as a baby, in place of... your... grandson?”

 

“Yes. See, by the time I realized that it was quite late, it had been a couple years or so, but... sometimes these exchanges happen. And to ensure my grandson stayed safe, the best I could do was simply love Yurochka as my own. And I do. And call me crazy, but... I think sometimes, there are things that happen for a reason. I think I was always meant to care for Yuri. In my life, I’ve experienced a lot of loss,”

 

_—and that was a nod to his wife, to his daughter, to his own parents in his own young adulthood—_

 

“but Yurochka... is different. He makes every effort to keep those he cherishes close to him. Certainly you’ve experienced that by now.” The older man said, gazing across the table at Otabek almost knowingly.

 

Otabek’s heart pangs as he nods, and Nikolai continues.

 

“And that’s why... that’s why it hurts so much, that they’ve taken him back.” The man’s voice cracked a little at the end, a glistening tear on his cheek. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I... cared for Yuri, all his life. And they were supposed to do the same for my grandchild. I’m sure they are still, I just suppose... I suppose there was more to it than I understood.”

 

Otabek was admittedly shocked that the man seemed so nonchalant about the whole incident, as though it were as natural a phenomena as leaves falling in autumn.

 

But admittedly, maybe this was just his way of coping with the loss. And admittedly, as Nikolai had said, Yuri cared deeply for his grandfather and his grandfather cherished him just the same. He supposed it would be hard to spend eighteen years with someone as special as Yuri and not adore them after it.

 

Otabek adored Yuri after only a fraction of the time.

 

Still though- he had to ask.

 

“How do you know your grandson... is safe?” Otabek asks, unsure of his words, and Nikolai’s eyes dart around the room before he answers.

 

“I’ve hinted at it, but they... are not inclined to hurt your child if you simply treat theirs kindly. You see, their kind... they need us. They need our children, but in turn they exchange theirs. And when proper care is given, you know that they will return the favor. It has been this way for centuries, you see.”

 

“...Who are they?” Otabek finally whispered, and Nikolai glanced around again and leaned in closer. He gestured for Otabek to lean his ear in, and he lowered his voice as much as he could as he spoke.

 

“The fairies.”

 

_Great_. That... gave him next to nothing, admittedly. He supposed that Victor had warned him that this would happen, but... it hurt. It made him question if any of this was true at all, and he wanted to believe that at least some of it was, so that maybe he could at least try to bring Yuri home—

 

As his heart was sinking, the radio turned on with a start to awful, screeching, static. Admittedly, it did remind the brunette of the other similar incidents like it, with the TVs, and the dream of Yuri, although he was reluctant to really draw any parallels because what would that even mean anyway—

 

Nikolai stood up, banged the radio on the desk twice, and waved the scissors at it until it stopped.

 

He returned to the table, still glancing at the device, and sighed.

 

“They don’t like it when you name them. That was pretty mild, but we shouldn’t push our luck. They... can have quite foul tempers.” He explained.

 

Otabek supposed if there were parallels to be drawn, then maybe Nikolai’s explanation was as good as any. And at any rate, Otabek knows he shouldn’t be bothered with static when something as important as Yuri being found finally is on the line.

 

“So... Yuri- Yurochka, our Yuri— is born from them, originally.” Otabek starts. He can do this. He can pretend that they’re talking about fairies here. Maybe they’re not fairies but nomads, or maybe some sort of gang, but if there’s even an inkling of truth in this story, and if Nikolai can tell him where they are... then Otabek can find Yuri.

 

It would all be worth it.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And if they’ve taken him, he would be... where?” Otabek asks, and Nikolai raises a brow.

 

“In case we’re not clear... I just told you that Yurochka is inhuman. They left him here, he’s one of them. And they... the beings that took him are actually quite short tempered and dangerous. If you didn’t understand that from...” The man nods over at the radio.

 

“And you just told me that you love him just the same, even... when you knew you had another grandson at one point. Me, I... I’ve only ever known Yuri. The one you call Yurochka, I mean. And... I would do anything to bring him home.” Otabek tried. As crazy as playing into it all was, Otabek would give anything for Yuri. Human or... not.

 

—S _urely, human though- the only relation to fairies he really has was that Russian Fairy nickname, right?—_

 

But it was touching, at least, that although his grandfather might be having some memory issues that he still loved the blonde that dearly.

 

The elderly man sighed a little, glancing down at his soup, and Otabek decided to press a little further.

 

“So don’t you want that, too? To see him again?” Otabek tried to reason.

 

The Russian sighed.

 

“I... I didn’t want them to take him back, really. I wish he could be home, here, with us, yes. But... what you’re embarking on is a mission that few have ever completed, if any.”

 

“Just let me try.” Otabek pleaded, and Nikolai searched his face for... something. He seemed to be thinking, very hard at that, about if he was going to entertain Otabek’s attempts any further.

 

After a moment he stood up, walked to a small box next to the coffee table, and retrieved a pendant. He walked back to the kitchen table and extended his hand to show it to the Kazakh skater.

 

“This is iron.” The man started. “If you do go, you must promise me you’ll wear this. They... they will at least have a harder time troubling you, with this.”

 

“Of course.” Otabek breathed a sigh of relief, putting the necklace on. Sure. If it made Nikolai more likely to work with him, than that was fine. “So... where would they have him?”

 

“They are very good at not being detected.” Nikolai began. “I do know one of one place that they often gather. I can drive you to the edge of the woods, but...”

 

The man paused. It seemed as though he was listening, and after a moment he turned, his back to Otabek as he spoke.

 

“You— listen, that’s incredibly dangerous, what you’re suggesting... I mean, I don’t know of a better way to direct him, no... I... I’ll wait for you, then. But you need to come right back.”

 

Otabek furrowed his brow, and then the man turned back to face him.

 

“Our domovoy says he will guide you. He’ll leave a trail for you. He just... won’t accompany you further, once you’ve found them.”

 

Great. More doubt was building, because Victor had said that rural families were quite superstitious like this, but...

 

Well. He supposed the worst that could happen was that nothing was there to guide him and Yuri wouldn’t be there, which was about what the outcome had been everywhere else if he really thought about it.

 

It couldn’t hurt to give it a go.

 

“Sure. Ah- also, I would like to say thank you.” Otabek tried, because this was important to Nikolai at least, and Nikolai nodded.

 

“He can hear you. He’ll be getting a head start- come. We’ll get in the car now.” Nikolai directed as he stood up, and Otabek stood with him and followed him out.

 

* * *

 

**Today, 9:42 P.M.**

**Otabek:** _Victor, Yuuri, Nikolai thinks he might know where Yuri is. I’m going to send you the coordinates that the smartphone gives me when I get there. If I’m not back by morning, please send help._

* * *

 

 

It was pitch black by the time they made it to the forest’s edge.

 

Having grown up in a city, there was something very unsettling about the blackness of the night in the woods to Otabek. Sure at night the city could be dangerous too, but... at least he could see what he was up against in the dim streetlights.

 

He could barely see a few feet ahead in this kind of darkness.

 

Otabek sighed, and then sat up with a start when he noticed what looked like a trail of bread already laid out in the headlights.

 

Admittedly, there was something very unsettling about it. Nikolai had been with him the whole time, which means...

 

Which means either he’d been planning this all along, or maybe there _was_ an inkling of truth in what he was saying.

 

He really, truly hoped it was the latter.

 

As he stepped out of the car he also entertained the idea that the man was somehow in league with whoever took Yuri and they’d set out the trail, but—

 

“Are you sure that you want to do this?” Nikolai asked, and Otabek suddenly couldn’t bring himself to believe the elderly man really wanted to hurt him or Yuri anymore.

 

“I... I promised Yuri I would go anywhere he went.” Otabek admitted, and Nikolai nodded.

 

“If you didn’t know... I think maybe he loved you.” Nikolai offered, quietly, and Otabek could feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

 

That was enough to make him do _anything_ for Yuri.

 

“I... I’m going to bring him home.” Otabek whispered, and Nikolai set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

 

“... The best to you. I’ll be waiting.” The man tried to encourage, and with that Otabek nodded, took a deep breath, and set forth down the path with only a flashlight to light his way.

 

The woods seemed to grow darker once he was in them. At about three minutes in he dropped a pin with his location into the group text that he’d started earlier with Victor and Yuuri

 

—(ignoring their pleas of _Otabek do not do this, please, call the authorities_ )—

 

and then continued on his way.

 

It seemed like time wasn’t an object in the forest. He walked, and the dark surrounded him, only cut by his flashlight following the bread trail in front of him. He couldn’t say how long he had been at this really, or how far he’d gone, but he was still on the right trail.

 

He attempted to drop another location pin, and he couldn’t quite tell if it had sent properly. Oh well. If not they had the one from earlier, but at least he’d tried. If this one did send though, at least they’d be able to trace his path until this far if something... happened.

 

It looked like the bread stopped up ahead.

 

He walked closer, glanced at the last pieces he saw, and then glanced around for more. He didn’t happen to see any, actually, and it made him feel something awful in his gut—

 

He glanced down again. The last piece seemed to be surrounded by mushrooms- odd. Well, the ring did put emphasis on the last piece, but... was this supposed to be it?

 

Otabek looked around again, gripping his flashlight so tightly that his knuckles went white.

 

No one there. Not that he could see...

 

He felt the weight of the flashlight in his hand and hoped that it would be heavy enough to land a good hit if he needed to swing.

 

He exhaled a shuddering sigh into the night, pacing a circle and trying to figure out what to do next. The night remained quiet. He supposed maybe he would call Victor and Yuuri, let them know he was fine, just... quite foolish for doing this at all.

 

He ended up standing next to the last bread crumb and opening up his phone, noting that his last location had sent at least, so although the service out here was spotty _maybe_ he could place a call.

 

He elected to dial Yuuri, who was far better at answering his phone, and waited.

 

“OTABEK?!” Yuuri seemed to be asking, but the static was getting worse by the second so if he had said anything after that Otabek couldn’t hear.

 

“Yuuri? Yuuri I’m here in the woods, I... I tried to find Yuri but I...”

 

Worse static. It didn’t help that Otabek felt particularly lightheaded on top of that.

 

“I... I’m in the woods, and I don’t feel good.” Otabek mumbled, maybe to Yuuri or maybe to the static, and it seemed a little like the trees were swaying and the ground was spinning beneath him.

 

“!r͜͏̯̥̗̘̣͈̠̱̞͇̜̖͙̭̗̥͕͘e̡͓̲̮͕̞̝̣̻̼̲̦̖̰̜̹̣͖̤͢͠ͅh̷̨̢̯͇̖̙͈̳̪͔͉̘͚͝ͅt҉̷͇̻̟͖̖̖̠̼͉͍̤̖̱r̵̛͚̝̭̰̻̟̟̞̱͇̘̣͢ư̵̷̡̛̰͖͓͉̙͎̺̰͉͓̮͇͓̱̺ͅf̵҉̠͙̱̗̳͇̱̫̝̻̳̘̘̺̺̠̟ ̴̵̴̰͓̤͎͉̫͚̮̯̻͓̲̱͉͝y̡̱̗̗̘̼͈̥͍͔̬̹̩̕̕͟͝n̮̪̹̠̞̕͞ͅa̢͝͏͚̮̫̫͍͉̬ͅ ̢̛̜̺̜̩̘̯̯̱̼̺̞̗͔͙̫̹͟͠o̧̡̥͎̳̫̺̩͉̟͓̼̕͘ͅg̼̩̥̪̫̝̘͓̟̼̳̼̰͙̳͙̣̥̜͢ ̴̛͕̬̮̠̮̙͇͍͢͡ţ̷̡̥͙̟̗͓̼͕͎̱̭͔͈̱͉͎̹̟̹͡ͅ’̴̴͎̺̗͓̰̝͚̗̗̱̱͔̪̠͠n̵̷̜̗͇͓̱̲͘o͜҉̗̝̼̹̺͔̳̺͔d҉̗̫̺̠̘̯͓̥̝͘̕͟ ̸͏͏̤̮͇̬̬̦̞̳̘͙ͅe̵̵̫͔̯̦͔̱͉̦͕͇̫̳̗̪͉̗͘͞ͅͅs͙̣͓̥̦̝͈̬̪͘͞a̷̴͉̹̣͙̲̭̙̻̭͝ͅe͏̫̻̠̦͕̱͙̳̼͜l̴̷̢̥̪̜͔̜̦͍̣̩͞P̢͞͝҉̼͈͙͈̥̤̼͕̙̦͔͚ͅͅ”The static shrieked.

 

But Otabek could only collapse to the ground, still clutching his phone and his flashlight, and through his now hazy vision he noticed an arc of mushrooms around him.

 

“I... please... I... I don’t feel good. I need help, I need to be able to try again, I’m so close... I just need to get to Yuri...” He mumbled, to _Yuuri,_ _the static, the gods, the sky—_

 

Yellow spots danced in front of his vision, and he could feel his face, his palms, his chest tingling, going numb, and _oh god is this what dying feels like—_

He rolled onto his back and stared up through the trees, trying to catch a glimpse of the stars at least, because it occurred to him that if he was dying he didn’t want to look at some mushrooms in the woods, he wanted to look at the stars, because wherever Yuri was at least they were under the same sky right now—

 

But Otabek wouldn’t know how wrong he was about that one until he came to.

 


End file.
